Requiem
by Azii
Summary: Six years after Sotoba's destruction, Toshio Ozaki goes looking for Seishin Muroi. In doing so, he learns that bygones are never really bygone, and that broody werewolves are sexy. Angst and BL ensue. ToShin.
1. Toshio Ozaki, Chapter One

NB: Hey, look! Fresh edits!

FYI: (1) I do not own Shiki. Also, if you haven't watched it, you should. (2) I am supposed to be working on another Kuroshitsuji fic, I know, but this plot came to me before that one did. I haven't abandoned that project. I promise. (3) This story is dedicated to all Seishin X Toshio fans who can't get any love, but most especially DJ Apocalypse, whose fluid writing style I could never emulate, but who is still the inspiration for this effort. (4) The updates will be slow in coming, but they'll come. Please be patient. Also, reviews make me more likely to write, whether they are congratulatory or critical, so please feel free to let me know how you like this or if you don't particularly like it and why.

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><p>It arrived inconspicuously. Amongst the glossy magazines and brightly-colored ads that typically inundated his mailbox, the small brown package had seemed very dull to Dr. Toshio Ozaki at first glance. He dropped it unceremoniously on the coffee table with the other mail upon returning home from work, and he would have left it there indefinitely if the handwriting hadn't looked so familiar. It was elegant and practiced—clearly the hand of an expert calligrapher. Since Toshio knew only one person capable of such precise calligraphy, his reaction was considerably more immediate than it would have been for utility bills or credit card offers.<p>

His fingers swept across the coarse wrapping, recalling memories of the same fingers sweeping across the trunks of momi fir trees. It seemed so long ago that he'd lived amidst those particular trees. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell the forest. Blood rushed in his ears, resulting in a kind of white noise that muted the sounds of the city outside. He itched for a cigarette….or three. _Maybe it's him. _Toshio examined the writing more closely, preparing himself for disappointment despite the hope swelling in his chest. Why would Seishin surface after so many years? Why would the priest reach out to a man who had sought his death? No reasonable man would do such a thing. And Seishin was certainly reasonable. Toshio's analysis of the writing confirmed his conclusions. _Seishin's characters lean a little to the right. This is not him._ His shoulders drooped as if in resignation. He was well aware that he and Seishin Muroi had not parted amicably, but perhaps out of loneliness or longing, he'd hoped against all reason to hear once again from his childhood companion. What he'd say to the priest-turned-werewolf Toshio didn't know, but he'd have given anything for the opportunity to converse at all. He desperately sought someone to stand with him in the shadows—a companion with whom he could drop all pretense. Seishin had been that and so much more, and the doctor had frittered away their friendship for reasons that no longer seemed at all compelling.

His life since Sotoba hadn't been much more than a series of frivolous experiences. The doctor was particularly careful not to cultivate any close relationships, not only because his very stable, decidedly untroubled colleagues seemed vacuous and fake, but also because he was certain that his own fractured psyche would be viewed as a professional liability. Toshio could not easily share the contents of the horrifying dreams that had kept him from sleeping soundly for six years. No, he was sure his colleagues would ridicule him if he went on about vampires and werewolves, and a little village nestled in the Japanese mountains that had been overrun with the undead before burning to the ground. They'd have him sent to the staff psychiatrist and deemed unfit for duty. Werewolves and vampires were the stuff of fiction and nightmares, after all. He mused briefly at the thought of taking up the pen himself – maybe by dedicating himself to fiction he might rid himself of the nightmares. It seemed to work for Seishin, didn't it? Perhaps. But Toshio harbored a suspicion that the priest had never fully committed to living in the realm of reality; Seishin was a dreamer. Toshio only feared his dreams. _Yet another reason that I need him._

He was shaken out of this reverie by the urgent trotting of his dog. Kuro was rushing towards him, clearly intent on colliding with his owner in some weird show of canine affection. Toshio dodged the impending attack smoothly and Kuro crashed spectacularly into the wall behind his master. The dog whined. The doctor laughed. He never grew tired of watching the retriever make a complete fool of itself, but even so, he felt guilty about taking pleasure at the mutt's expense. Kuro was his only real friend.

"Sorry. I'm too tired to play," he said, as though explaining his lack of libido to an amorous girlfriend. _I'm making conciliatory gestures to a dog – not even a smart one at that. _When had he become so pathetic? He continued looking at the package in his hands as Kuro vied for his attention. "Jealous, are you?" Toshio asked the dog playfully as he leaned down to scratch behind its ears. "Don't worry. It's not him." Kuro followed behind his exhausted owner, plopping down on the couch next to the doctor and nuzzling him softly. Toshio leaned back and closed his eyes. He contemplated going to sleep. He felt so very, very tired. Maybe he'd sleep well if he didn't sleep in his bed.

It was when Kuro's affectionate whimpers turned to slightly threatening growls that Toshio realized that he'd better attend to the dog or risk losing a limb. He got up reluctantly and made his way to the state-of-the-art kitchen to find some dog food. Tokyo's many lights gleamed through his floor-to-ceiling windows. Dusk was fading into night, and he admired the sparkling city from his very beautiful, very expensive view. Had he known his insurance settlement would be so substantial, he might have set fire to his father's clinic long ago. Actually, that wasn't true. He'd never have set fire to the clinic, but he certainly would have fantasized about doing so. Twice, at least. Maybe three times. Maybe his mother would have been caught in the blaze too. Okay, okay, just twice. Killing his already-dead mother stretched the word 'redundant' to its lexical limit.

He'd moved away from Sotoba after the inferno. The ruinous state of the village only served as a perpetual reminder of what he considered his many failures. He'd failed as a village elder, allowing his need to hunt down the Shiki take precedence over the protection of the villagers. So what if the Kirishikis wanted Sotoba? Couldn't the remaining human have settled elsewhere? He'd failed as a doctor, forgetting that his first duty was to save lives, not to take them, not even in extreme circumstances. He'd failed as a friend, compelling Seishin into seeking asylum with the Kirishikis by drawing boundaries between the two of them and then getting angry with the other man for not trespassing those boundaries. But mostly, he'd failed because traded his humanity. At the time, he thought that his actions were the right ones. The intervening years had softened that conviction—the world was gray, and Toshio had needed six years to figure that one out. But Seishin had always known. Perhaps that's why he'd been so hesitant to kill the Shiki. Toshio had mistaken the priest's inaction for apathy, but he thought he knew better now. Seishin's tragic flaw was not apathy, but rather an overabundance of sentiment. He'd loved the Shiki more than himself. He'd loved the villagers too, in the way that any servant could love a master. Why else would he agree to don temple robes when he could have easily run away? Yes, the priest had always been the more humane of the two. In fact, Toshio had managed to grow more distant and aloof since Sotoba. He moved through his life with a kind of stoic reserve that would make his former friend proud. He told himself it was because being a city doctor demanded a kind of clinical detachment that would have been frowned upon in a small village. But ultimately, he knew this was a rationalization. He also knew that the emotions he'd become so adept at masking were just simmering away under the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment. Maybe that's why he wanted to reconnect so desperately with Seishin—to find an outlet for all these damnable feelings, to find some semblance of peace at last.

The doctor scrubbed his face wearily and drew a cigarette from the package stashed in his cutlery drawer. He'd been trying to quit. _What a stupid, stupid idea. _Thoughts of Sotoba always made him want to smoke. Lately, his thoughts never strayed too far afield of the village. _Stupid. _He lit the cigarette and made his way lazily to the couch, dropping himself into it with all due drama and crossing his feet on top of the coffee table. He picked up the package he'd discarded earlier.

_Not him. _He opened it nonetheless and found an English novel inside. It was a trade paperback, the pages dog-eared and worn with multiple readings. There was no other correspondence. He looked again at the mailing address on the wrapping:

_Dr. Toshio Ozaki_

_9-7-4 Akasaka N4_

_Minato-ku_

_Tokyo 107-0052_

_Japan _

No return address either, only a postmark from a Florence post office.

"_Village of the Damned_. Really Seishin, that's all you could think up?" The novel's author was certainly his former friend, of that much he was sure, even though the book claimed to be written by a Sesto Moretti. Clearly, the priest's creative faculties did not extend to the generation of pseudonyms or titles. The back jacket described it as a "_tour de force_ in horror writing devoid of sparkly abominations of vampire mythology and brimming with atmosphere and intelligence." Toshio smiled. Seishin had finally written about Sotoba then. Like him, the priest was seeking a catharsis. It would not be the first time Seishin had done so. Toshio recalled vividly the night in college when his friend had slashed his wrist open. He remembered how as a novice medical student he'd clumsily stitched the young priest together again. He even remembered how he'd known the true reason for Seishin's distress yet remained silent on the matter. And honestly, hadn't Toshio been watching Seishin suffer from the sidelines their whole lives? _I'm some friend. _

But the arrival of the novel seemed to contradict that particular self-assessment. "I'll be damned. Maybe it is him this time." Certainly no one else would gift Toshio Ozaki a book, but then again, the gift might have been from any of the Sotoba survivors who were aware of the fact that two Shiki escaped the purge and that one said Shiki was a writer. But if this was the case, why was there no correspondence? Seishin might choose the cryptic route, but the other villagers typically lacked that sort of subtlety. He flipped the book over, looking for anything that might serve as a clue. A bookmark slipped from the volume and fell into his lap. Toshio turned to the page it had been holding and read the dedication printed there:

_To my only friend: Your absence has compelled me to immortalize you in my stories. Words have always fallen more easily from my pen than my lips, and because I have been remiss in the past, let these words now serve as my remuneration: That you are alive is my only consolation. Yours, S._

There was no mistaking it. The dedication was meant for Toshio. Whether or not Seishin had actually sent the book, the priest was clearly thinking about him, and _someone_ wanted him to know that. Perhaps both of them had swept bygones away? Maybe the dedication had been Seishin's method of reaching out to Toshio, of inviting his friend to look him up once again? Or maybe God did exist and this was the work of Providence? No. Best not go there. If God existed, He stopped believing in Toshio Ozaki long ago.

Kuro trotted back to his master's side after having his fill of food. Toshio recommenced petting the dog, smiling broadly now, that old sense of adventure returning to his middle-aged limbs. He snuffed out his barely-smoked cigarette in the ashtray and ran his hand through his unkempt hair. _Florence, huh? Sounds lovely. _

"You'll hate me for this Kuro, but I'm going away for a while." The dog remained happily oblivious.


	2. Toshio Ozaki, Chapter Two

I bumped the rating up to 'M' because there are a number of expletives and mild mention of suicidal ideation in this chapter. There'll be some smut in coming chapters so I figured I'd go ahead and do the responsible thing. Better to be overly cautious than not at all.

Oh, and I do not own Shiki.

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><p>Kuro bounded along the Italian countryside. The late afternoon sun dappled the Florentine hills in shades of rose and gold, and Toshio could do nothing but grin at the breathtaking view. Italy exuded warmth. Its people, its climate, its gentle slopes, the heady feeling he got from drinking its wine, and even the color of its flora and fauna seemed to the doctor to be crafted with a carefree lightness that was downright intoxicating. He'd always thought of Japan as colder, greener perhaps, but more isolated and sterile. He definitely preferred Japan, but decided that Italy would be at the top of his list if he ever decided to leave his homeland. Toshio had tracked Seishin to a small town west of Florence. The novel had provided all the necessary information in an author's biography. Indeed, it was too easy, and too unlike his childhood friend to be so unguarded about his personal information. It wouldn't be hard to find Seishin amongst a mere 16,000 townspeople. How many grey-haired Japanese men could there be in this corner of the world? But not knowing precisely what to do after arriving, he'd rented a flat in the old town and planned out how he'd finally make his approach. Toshio didn't know where Seishin lived exactly, but the Italian villagers were just as nosy as their Japanese counterparts, and he reckoned that he could wrangle that information with little effort. A few rounds of drinks here, a charming smile or two there, and the Italians would be all too happy to chatter away with a handsome foreign doctor. Whatever his plans, however, he knew they'd have to be executed in daylight. With the little vampire minx asleep he would have Seishin all to himself. Maybe he could talk the priest into returning to Tokyo with him without said minx in tow.<p>

The early evenings he'd spend walking Kuro and rehearsing his lines for their upcoming encounter. Well, actually he spent them running behind Kuro. He had every intention of leaving the mutt in Japan, but couldn't bring himself to follow through with that plan. So instead of pawning him off on one of his hospital colleagues, he'd obtained a pet passport and brought him along. After all, the dog had been his sole companion for the last five years. Hell, he even had extensive conversations with it. Lately, his conversations with Kuro consisted of a great deal of cursing and panting as he tried to keep pace. Tokyo had been crowded. The retriever reveled in his new-found freedom, and honestly, the doctor couldn't really blame him. So he ran after the dog, making a mental note to quit smoking….again.

Kuro finally came into view after Toshio crested what seemed to him to be an unnecessarily steep hill. The doctor stopped in mid-sprint upon catching sight of the dog. He nearly tripped over himself in shock. _Life is seriously fucked up._ He'd come to that realization when he staked his own wife after torturing her for hours. What he'd been largely unaware of at that time was that this fucked-up-ness sometimes conformed to clichéd conventions of pulpy romance novels. But this would become all too clear, because his idiot dog was now being petted by one Seishin Muroi. Leave it to Kuro to run headlong into the path of a werewolf. _Goddamnit. When we get home, it's off to the shelter with you. _Toshio found himself utterly unprepared despite playing the encounter over and over again in his mind's eye. _Of course it would have to happen like this. Fuck!_

Even from a distance Seishin looked….different. He'd traded his temple robes for slacks and a sweater, but they were still black, and still striking against the priest's pale skin and hair. He looked healthier too, not nearly as brittle and skinny. He was smiling softly as he ran his long fingers through the dog's coat. To an outsider, the priest might have looked content—an émigré and his dog, out for a leisurely stroll in the country. But Toshio was sure he could see sadness reflected in Seishin's smile even at a distance. He bit back a sudden urge to kiss it away. _Woah. Where did that come from? _The doctor shook his head as if to dispel a particularly vivid dream. Travelling down that road with Seishin had always led to trouble. _Then why are you here? _

"He's my friend." In lieu of his usual conversation partner, he whispered to himself. The dog never responded anyway, he reasoned, so conversing with himself ought to be as effective._  
><em>

_And that's the only reason you're here?_

"I was a horrible friend."

_So was he. He chose a murderer over you._

"I pushed him too far."

_Yes, and instead of confronting you he just ran away._

"He must have had a reason. He wouldn't just run away."

_Oh? Then why didn't he explain himself to his closest friend? _

"I would have tried to stop him."

_Liar. You would have let him go. _

"I won't this time."

_Why not?_

"He's my friend."

_Your friend? Then why are looking at him like that?_

"Like what?"

_He's quite sexy, isn't he? Remember how you pretended with Kyouko? You fantasized about ripping Seishin's robes off his body, about defiling him in a church of all places. The fantasy wasn't enough. Isn't that why you acted upon it? I bet he's more practiced now. I wonder what his fangs would feel like as they scraped along your -_

"Shut up. No one asked you." Toshio's mind flickered briefly to their drunken tryst all those years ago. To be honest, only Toshio had been drunk. Seishin slit his wrist only a few months afterwards, and Toshio knew even then that part of the priest's despair had come from their night together.

_It's too late for remorse now, isn't it?_ His pretend interlocutor mocked him.

He'd been watching from a short distance, but he would have to make his presence known sooner or later, so he walked towards the other man warily. He was nervous; his heart was beating a stammering tattoo in his chest and his hands were slick with sweat. The words that tumbled out of his mouth, however, gave no indication of his frame of mind.

"He doesn't usually like people. But I suppose werewolves aren't really people."

The jinrou spun around. He was clearly expecting an attack, and before Toshio could process what was happening, he found himself with his back flat on the ground and a vice-like hand around his neck. A pair of ruby eyes glowered at him dangerously through dark-rimmed glasses. Kuro licked the side of Toshio's face and barked happily. _Useless mutt. _

"I should have known you'd show up sooner or later. What are you doing here, Toshio?" The jinrou was hard, cold. Fingers squeezed slightly around the doctor's neck, no doubt Seishin demonstrating that he could break Toshio with minimal effort. Clearly, being a werewolf had its advantages.

"I got your package. I came all this way to thank you and this is how you greet me?" Toshio grinned stupidly despite his current situation. Surely Seishin wouldn't choke him if he maintained his 'affable idiot' persona. It had saved him from Seishin's anger in the past, after all.

"What package?" His voice had grown raspy over the last six years. Toshio's conscience (if that was indeed what he'd just been conversing with) had been right. The man was sexy. That he'd been doomed to priesthood had always seemed a waste to the doctor. Well, he was no priest now it seemed. Even his former passivity seemed to have been replaced with something sharper, something aggressive. Whatever Toshio had hoped to find, the man crouching over him threateningly was not it. Seishin didn't just look different. He bore no resemblance to the man he used to be. Toshio could not determine whether or not this was a good or a bad thing on the whole, but it was enough to speed his pulse slightly.

"Your book. The dedication. If I remember correctly, it said something to the effect of 'To my only friend: Your absence has compelled me to immortalize you in my stories….blah, blah, blah….." He trailed off, offering his aggressor another winning smile and a roguish wink.

"I know what I wrote." Seishin pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and released Toshio's throat with a resigned huff. He shifted back, allowing the doctor to sit up. There was no point in adopting a menacing affect. After all, Toshio was a man who smiled when being threatened. _I could have snapped him in half. What an idiot_. "That dedication was not an invitation." Toshio rubbed his neck gingerly, knowing that he'd bruise where Seishin's fingers had found purchase in his flesh. He cleared his throat and pulled a cigarette from the package in his pocket.

"Are you sure?" he asked while lighting it. He inhaled gratefully while Seishin settled himself more comfortably on the grass. Kuro plopped down next to him, his large retriever eyes locked on the jinrou in what Toshio could only assume was a sick sort of adoration.

The werewolf hunched his shoulders ever so slightly, and in this gesture Toshio found something reminiscent of his old friend. "I write fiction. Why would the dedication of my book be any less fictitious?"

"Because that book was not fiction. That book was about Sotoba."

Seishin said nothing. Toshio assumed that he'd won this particular battle of wills. The two remained still for some time, watching the sun slip over the hills. Such silences between them had always been comfortable. That, at least, had not changed. Evening fell upon them before Seishin spoke again.

"Why are you here?" He repeated the inquiry, but this time his voice was softer, gentler. He trained his gaze at the tendrils of pink still lingering near the horizon, but Toshio caught him darting his eyes towards the doctor.

"I wanted to see you. I needed to apologize. You were right all those years ago."

"About?" The jinrou was now absentmindedly picking lint off his sweater while Kuro attempted to fit into in his lap. He still avoided looking at Toshio directly, preferring to steal periodic glances through the periphery of his vision.

"I was too hasty. I should have moved the humans somewhere else. Maybe then, you wouldn't have felt compelled to sacrifice yourself."

"Is that what you think I did?"

"Yes, you went to Kanemasa to negotiate. You tried to save us all—humans and Shiki."

Seishin barked a hollow, sarcastic laugh, instantly shifting his demeanor. He seemed every inch the werewolf now. This sudden change in Seishin's affect caused the doctor to feel small and insignificant. When had Seishin's laughter become a slight? "That's always been your problem. You only see what you want to see. I didn't martyr myself for the village. Why would I do that? Sotoba was my prison. I only stayed there out of a misplaced sense of obligation. I'm happy that there's nothing there to oblige me any longer."

Toshio was staggered. He'd never considered that Seishin had acted out of anything less than an altruistic impulse to save everyone around him. "I don't believe you."

"You don't have to."

The doctor changed strategies. This was not going at all according to plan. He knew he should leave—that by remaining on this hillside and continuing this conversation he would only be hurt. He'd be exposed to a host of things that he had not the heart to hear. The Seishin that he knew, that he missed, seemed irretrievably lost and based on the werewolf's words, Toshio was not sure that that man ever existed at all. But having come so far, having longed so desperately to hear his friend's voice once more, he stayed put. Being able to talk with Seishin was better than the alternative, no matter what words the priest used to cut him. But Toshio didn't have to capitulate. Oh no. Dr. Ozaki was a fighter. "So now you have your freedom. Then tell me, why are you so fucking miserable? And before you try to contradict me, do consider the evidence. Look at you. You're roaming a foreign country in full brood, dressed in all black, with nothing but your little notepad for company. Maybe this is how all you tragically misunderstood writers live, but you look pretty pathetic to me. Is this what you wanted? Does this…" he gestured to the scenery around them "…make you happy?"

"Well, it is rather beautiful." Toshio came up short, but then, inexplicably, he began laughing. Seishin joined in. The physician had to admit it was a pretty stupid question, but he'd never been more thankful for his occasional propensity for idiocy than he was at the moment. He'd not heard that laugh in six years, and even before then, he'd heard it very rarely. "I do my research here. I live in Japan most of the time. I'm not so tragically misunderstood that I'd leave my homeland." Toshio tore his gaze away from the hint of a smile still playing across the jinrou's lips.

"Your author biography said you live in Signa."

"My biography was written for Signor Moretti."

"So I got lucky when I found you here?"

"If you want to call it that."

"Where in Japan?"

"Somewhere remote." Seishin would not volunteer any more information about his current life, Toshio was sure, so he did not press this line of questioning any further.

"Why did you do it?" The seriousness crept back into the doctor's voice. His companion did not have to ask what 'it' meant. If Toshio couldn't reclaim their friendship, then he'd at least get some answers.

"I wanted to die. I didn't expect I'd live, and expected much less that I'd become almost invincible." Seishin lowered his head, his dark-rimmed glasses obscuring his eyes, but Toshio felt a small thrill of victory. It seemed that his Seishin—his sensitive, contemplative Seishin—was not lost. Not completely, anyway. It didn't occur to him how truly sad it was that he should find his old friend in such despondent words.

"You're a moron. You didn't consider the possibility that you'd turn into a vampire? I don't believe that."

"Oh, I considered it. I also considered how I'd trap myself in the sunlight if that should happen, or that I'd come to you so that you could kill me."

"I wouldn't have done it."

"Don't lie. There's no need anymore."

Toshio took a deep breath. He felt that he would not get another chance to speak so freely. "I would have regretted it for the rest of my life." He crooked a finger under the other man's chin and looked into his eyes. They were now the striking yellow-green that Toshio remembered, but still they seemed unfamiliar. "And it would not have been the only thing I regretted."

Those green eyes widened momentarily. Seishin seemed to be teetering on the edge of responding but then he only shook his head and pulled out of Toshio's reach. He got up, dislodging a disgruntled Kuro, and dusted himself off. He then turned his back on the bewildered doctor. "I didn't send you any package. I'm sorry if the dedication gave you the wrong idea. I'll always want your happiness Toshio, but that doesn't mean I want to see you. You've made your apology, unnecessary as it was. Go home."

Even Kuro seemed to sense the finality of the werewolf's words. The dog stayed put at his master's side and whined after the jinrou. Toshio wanted to march stubbornly after Seishin, to grab his arm and spin him around. He wanted to kiss him so passionately that they ended up naked and spent on the hillside underneath the stars. He wanted to wake up to the gentle, unassuming Seishin of long ago. But for once in his life, Dr. Toshio Ozaki did not act upon impulse. He remained put and stared at his friend's retreating form.

His conscience mocked him again. _That's the third time you let him walk away. _

Had he been paying closer attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed the little girl with pale skin and long hair watching him from amongst the trees. He would not have seen the moonlight reflected by her dark, mournful eyes, but he would have recognized the heartache reflected in the downward curve of her lips, even at some distance.


	3. Toshio Ozaki and Seishin Muroi

NB: This chapter has been edited (particularly the last half) per my conversation with Flower of the Flame (who is awesomeness incarnate, BTW). Flower of the Flame is *still* a better reader of this story than I deserve. Thanks!

With or without edits, this chapter remains dedicated to my anonymous "admirer" who tells me that I should "screw everyone else" and write what comes to me. Said admirer also asked for boy-on-boy action, and I'm nothing if not obliging. Thank you, thank you for your kind words. You've no idea how much I adore you.

Well folks, we've got action, but no happy ending. Yet. Sorry. You can't have it all. Do enjoy. And remember that I have a reviewer-shaped hole in my heart that you can fill. Won't you be so kind? Finally, (1) There is a perspective shift from Toshio to Seishin. A page break will indicate the shift. (2) I don't own Shiki, but I would make Seishin and Toshio kiss if I did!

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><p>Toshio remained on the hillside for another half hour. He looked up at the stars and contemplated falling asleep right there. He was exhausted after all, and his own flat was quite a long walk away. And then the fear of being hacked to pieces by a crazy axe murderer stopped all those thoughts short. Still he lingered. A beautiful day had turned into an equally gorgeous night, and since he decided that he'd be leaving for Tokyo in the morning, he took his fill of the Florentine countryside. Seishin was right; it was bloody beautiful. He shrugged. And then he smoked. Even Kuro's former exuberance had diminished as he lay on the grass watching the plumes of smoke swirl from the end of Toshio's cigarette. The doctor was furious with himself. His trip had been completely, utterly pointless. Yes, he'd seen Seishin, talked with him even, but there was a distance between them that he could not cross. He'd have to give up. Honestly, he hadn't been all that surprised. After all, Toshio would have killed him if he'd happened upon the jinrou in those final days of Sotoba. And Seishin had always been the brooding type. Toshio suspected that a great deal of angst could accrue in six years, especially when faced with the fact that your best friend would have gladly driven a stake through your heart because he'd prioritized revenge over friendship. <em>And that would not be the greatest of my sins with regards to Seishin. I drove him away years before that. <em>No. When he thought about it, he hadn't been surprised at all. He'd just been disappointed.

It was then that he felt a small, icy hand on his shoulder. Deep in thought, the doctor had not heard the approaching footfall (which was absurd given his recent preoccupation with axe murderers). "I was the one who sent you the book." He looked up. She was standing above him, hands on either side of his neck, fingernails slightly scraping along the line of his overlong hair. The brush of her fingers elicited an involuntary shiver. She was perfectly positioned to suck his blood, he realized. He stood no chance if she sought to finish him off, and given his earlier encounter with Seishin, he reckoned that he would not even be mourned. _Murdered by a bloodthirsty little bitch. What a day. _That she'd always managed to paint a patina of innocence over her devil's smile made the doctor livid. It was as if she were mocking him by holding her true nature in perfect irony with her frilly lavender dress. No doubt she found it all very entertaining.

Kuro's reaction to Sunako was markedly different from his reaction to Seishin. He pressed himself into the earth beside his master and cowered. _You've been useless today, Kuro. _Toshio couldn't help but to be darkly amused. What else could possibly go wrong?

"I figured that one out when he said he hadn't sent it. I'm not an idiot, you know." Sunako wrapped her small arms around his neck and allowed her lips to just touch his ear. He gasped. She was like a live wire, her lips sending a dangerous current through his body that wasn't at all sexy. If he'd been unnerved by the change in Seishin's demeanor, he was completely unhinged by Sunako. He had always been, even though he'd never met her. The Shiki had all been terrified of her, and that was enough for the doctor. He didn't need firsthand experience to know that Sunako Kirishiki was not a girl—a woman—to be trifled with. When you single-handedly rule over a horde of bloodsucking monsters, your ability to inspire fear is a given. His muscles seized up under her small body. She only laughed. It was a tinkling, metallic sound that crept through his skin. How had Seishin stood her presence all these years?

"Don't worry. I don't intend to kill you, even though I owe you a death. You would have killed me without hesitation."

"You destroyed my village. You stripped me of a home and killed my friends and family. What would you have done in my place?" He held nothing but contempt for Sunako. She was the reason his village lay in ruins. Because of her, he'd flown half-way around the world to find his friend. In his mind, Sunako was holding Seishin hostage, and the latter had developed a particularly acute case of Stockholm Syndrome. Despite the blame that lay squarely on her shoulders, Seishin seemed to adore her. After all, hadn't he left the village to be by her side? A heaviness was settling on the doctor's chest as he considered these things, and he knew that this time it would be permanent. He should not have come to Signa. He felt defeated. Seishin had chosen Sunako. Toshio realized that he'd lost before he ever boarded the plane. So he surrendered. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

He didn't respond immediately. She shook him then, demanding an answer to her charge. He could lose nothing by being honest, so he told her the truth. "No, I'm not. I might have been sorry if you hadn't stolen Seishin too."

"I don't think you're in a position to begrudge me anything after what you did to Chizuru."

"I never said I wasn't wrong. Only that I wasn't sorry. I'm no angel." She removed her arms and sat down beside him. From a distance they would have looked like a stargazing father and daughter. They even shared the same dark hair and eyes. Sunako arranged her dress prettily around her, smiling to herself as she did so. Even this mundane gesture seemed eerie. He looked across at her, studying her movements for the slightest tell. "And you're not sorry either." She rolled her eyes impatiently, as if Toshio had been a particularly uncomprehending subordinate. It occurred to him that she did not initiate this conversation to cast blame.

"Don't you want to know why I sent it?" Sunako's voice had a sing-song quality about it that set Toshio's teeth on edge. It was unsuitably high-pitched for the ages-old wisdom that it conveyed.

"I'm still alive, so I suspect that you don't want me dead. What do you want? To gloat? Fine. You win."

"You have no subtlety."

"Can't argue there." He pulled another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. This little interlude of theirs had already gone on too long, but Toshio had nowhere to go. After all, he'd never turn his back on a vampire. It was just as he said; he wasn't stupid.

"He's missed you. So very much." The words slipped from her tongue with sadness etched in every syllable. He could hear her heartbreak and it further disturbed him. Toshio knew that Shiki were capable of feeling. He'd seen it when he'd betrayed Chizuru. Sunako could not be immune to sentiment. Seishin seemed to consider her a kindred spirit after all, and despite the jinrou's insensitivity to the doctor, Toshio was not wholly convinced that Seishin had turned into an emotionless bastard in the intervening years. No, if Seishin loved her, she'd have to have something worth loving. Nevertheless, her display of naked emotion now left him more confused than comforted. She'd been cast as the villain in the play unfolding in his mind, and he had no intention of seeing her in a different light.

"Really? That's strange, because he just told me to go the fuck _home_!" He hadn't meant to yell at her, but Toshio was very tired. He was tired of having pointless hillside conversations with repressed ex-priest-become-werewolves and creepy little girl vampires. He was tired of feeling like he'd been given a few bricks and told to build a fortress. He was tired because even though he wasn't exactly happy back in Tokyo, he was stable. Seeing Seishin had upended the life it took six years to build, and it was done in the span of a few hours. Was his life such a trifle that it could be rendered meaningless by the un-returned affections of a man he hadn't seen in six years? _Apparently so._ Hell, he was even tired of his traitorous dog who'd sold him out twice now.

Sunako laughed again, but she'd infused a touch of pity in her tone that made him take note. There was a faraway sadness in her dark, dark eyes and Toshio resisted the urge to take her hand. Whatever he thought of her, however much the two of them were to blame for the destruction of Sotoba, it was clear that she too cared for Seishin. It might be the only redeeming quality that either of them possessed. And he realized that's why she was here. It had nothing to do with Toshio or some deferred attempt at revenge. For Sunako, this must be about Seishin. This the two of them shared.

Sunako took Toshio's hand then. She felt brittle, like she'd break if he squeezed the tiny hand in his. He suppressed another shiver but did not recoil from her. As she slipped her hand away from his he found a small piece of paper pressed into his palm. It was covered in the same calligraphic script that addressed the package sent to his Tokyo apartment. "That won't stop a man like you, will it? At least it wouldn't stop the Dr. Ozaki I've heard so much about." She offered him a conciliatory smile. He would have found it charming if she wasn't so frightening. "How about I take your dog for a walk? I need to feed, and I could do with the company. I'll be out for a while."

"I don't think he likes you."

"He will." Sunako rose and dusted herself off in a gesture uncannily reminiscent of Seishin. She bent down and scratched Kuro behind the ears. The dog had been trembling in fear since her arrival, but at this he raised his head and licked her hand. She giggled, and for the briefest of moments, Toshio caught a glimpse of the little girl she must have been a long time ago. Sunako whistled sharply at Kuro and began walking away. He followed without hesitation, tail wagging happily in his wake. Toshio looked after the two of them with his mouth hanging open. _How the hell did she...nevermind. I don't want to know. _

"Don't you dare eat him!" He yelled after her in a feeble attempt at making a joke—a gesture of forgiveness or understanding that was meant as a kind of thank you for the information she gave him.

She looked over her shoulder and laughed her bell-like laugh. "I wouldn't dream of it, Dr. Ozaki."

He considered the paper, knowing what its content would reveal before he read it. It was an address, and he knew exactly where to find the villa therein described. He was so buoyed by this latest set of events that he didn't realize that she'd not explained why she brought him here. He'd regret the oversight later.

Toshio steeled himself for what he was about to do. He wasn't sure of his plan, but he was determined to give it one last go. He'd never given up on anything without a fight. He was not going to give Seishin up so easily. He took one last glance at the nighttime sky and began marching down the hill. The small villa nestled in the hills on the opposite side of the village was a long walk away, but Toshio would need the time to prepare himself. He'd seen the house once or twice before while he was out with Kuro. He should have guessed its occupant much sooner. It was exactly the sort of place that Seishin would favor: quiet, secluded, with very few windows. A solitary light was on; he could see it even from across town. It twinkled like a beacon against the grey-green hills. He smiled mischievously as the light grew closer and closer. Seishin would never see this coming. The element of surprise was well within the doctor's favor.

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><p>The knock was far too urgent for it to be Sunako's, but Seishin didn't think it through sufficiently enough to come to this conclusion. After all, Sunako had been prone to forgetting her keys lately, and so he was not surprised to hear a knock so shortly after nightfall. He smiled to himself. It never failed to amuse him that a creature over a hundred years old would be capable of something so damnably human as forgetting her keys. These glimpses of the little girl that resided within the vampire's body were what bound him to her. He was one of the few that could see her humanity so clearly, and she loved him for it. And unlike Toshio, Sunako never asked for anything in return but companionship and the occasional story - both requests which the jinrou was more than willing to indulge.<p>

"Did you forget your keys again?" Seishin called out as he made his way to the foyer. He opened the front door and had but a few seconds to register what was happening on before he found himself being _assaulted_ by Toshio, who'd pulled at Seishin with one hand and slammed the door shut behind him with another. _How in the world did he -_ That thought was cut short as Seishin felt himself being pushed against the now-closed front door. The doctor's lips were on his, the taste of nicotine and salt sending his head reeling and an incandescence coursing through his limbs. Toshio pulled at Seishin's lower lip with his teeth, and although he tried to resist, the jinrou's own teeth elongated in response. _Damnit. _The situation had escalated beyond Seishin's control. This had always been the case with Toshio. Seishin could never deny anything he asked for, even if, and perhaps most especially when those requests pertained Seishin himself. Some things never change. One of the doctor's hands had worked its was under Seishin's sweater and was now exploring the planes of his chest with an intent that brooked no resistance. That hand had gone from his chest to his stomach, and then slipped under the waistband of his slacks. Seishin gasped. Toshio's other hand grabbed a fistful of the jinrou's hair and tugged it back gently so the doctor could have better access to his neck. The dull scrape of human teeth followed by the slip of tongue against sensitive skin made Seishin's breath catch. A low growl escaped his throat, and he was ashamed that his body had betrayed him so thoroughly in so short a span of time. Toshio was unrelenting. He pressed himself into Seishin, trapping him between the door and the doctor. Seishin found he no longer wanted to escape. A heady mix of pleasure and pain was zipping down his spine, his knees nearly buckling under the doctor's ministrations. _Fuck_. Toshio slid against him hotly and laughed teasingly as he took Seishin's earlobe in his teeth. "So you missed me, did you?"

The words were enough to bring the ex-priest crashing back to the ground. _What am I doing? _He pushed Toshio off him as roughly as his conscience would allow. He landed a few feet away in a sprawled heap of long limbs and wrinkled clothing. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"You didn't mind about twenty seconds ago." Toshio was still grinning victoriously, and Seishin found himself vacillating between wanting to wring the other man's neck and wanting to finish what they'd started right there on the floor. The thought of Sunako's expression when she found her caretaker _in flagrante delicto_ weighed decidedly in favor of the first option. Toshio had to go. Now.

"Well, I mind now. Get out." He wrapped his hand around the doorknob and let it linger there, prepared to see the doctor out and to lock the door behind him. _Honestly, will I have to sell the house now?_ Toshio's ability to disrupt his life had only increased with age. The jinrou felt disheveled, insecure. He knew this would be the inevitable result of allowing Toshio Ozaki back into his life. It was the reason he'd walked away on the hillside, and the reason he'd decided to leave for Japan as soon as he returned to the villa. He'd hoped to be rid of Toshio by the time he returned to Signa.

Toshio stood up gingerly and walked towards Seishin. He seemed to the jinrou to be appraising the situation. He held his hands up like a man caught in an ambush. No doubt the both of them had arrived at the same conclusions: Seishin _wanted_ Toshio, and this was something the doctor could manipulate to his advantage. But Toshio was the one who'd made himself emotionally vulnerable by traveling all the way to Italy to hunt the other man down, and that evened the score somewhat. Despite Toshio's actions, Seishin was not convinced of the doctor's intentions. Toshio had always thought of him as property of sorts. They'd been friends, to be sure, but the doctor was always the leader, and the priest had always followed at a distance. It only made sense that Toshio would do whatever it takes to get back what was his. He was nothing if not persistent. But he had never understood the distinction between love and ownership. It was a distinction that Seishin knew too well. The man in front of him now, however, seemed so different from the man of long ago. This Toshio was world-weary and broken, and perhaps more sensitive and introspective. After all, he'd respected Seishin's wishes and remained behind on the hillside a few hours ago. Granted, he'd then tracked him down and showed up at his door unannounced, but at least the initial concern for what Seishin wanted was there, if even momentarily. Toshio closed the distance between the two of them while the jinrou was lost in thought. He came within arm's length of the door. Seishin opened it, allowing a breeze to blow between them, but Toshio only wrapped his hand around the wrist that held the doorknob and pushed the door closed again.

He lifted Seishin's wrist, the one the jinrou slashed open all those years ago, the one that the doctor had mended but that had not quite healed in sixteen years. Toshio turned it palm up and ran his fingers across the thin raised scar that cut across otherwise unmarred porcelain skin. Seishin bristled at the contact. It was so different from before, so gentle and sweet, and so unlike the Toshio he'd known. The old Toshio would have continued with his sexual advances as urgently as before. The old Toshio would not have stopped. The old Toshio had not stopped.

"Don't. I'll leave in the morning. But not tonight. I've come so far to find you." He kissed the priest's wrist where his fingers had lately traced their path and laced their fingers together. Toshio's hand was warm and comforting, and Seishin felt himself slip into complacency like he'd been placed under a spell. He shook his head to clear his mind. _He's lied before. He doesn't love you. He just hates to lose, and he'll use any means to win._

"Why?" Seishin closed his eyes, trying to resist, knowing that looking at the other man now would shred whatever defenses he'd erected in the last several minutes.

"That should be obvious."

"Toshio, this is not the first time you've come barging through my door with your hormones in large control of your intellect."

"No. It's not. I know." Toshio moved even closer, keeping their fingers interlaced. He smelled of cigarette smoke and cologne and Seishin wanted nothing more than to bury himself in that smell. Toshio placed his free hand to Seishin's cheek and rested his forehead against his shoulder, but Seishin's eyes remained averted. "I'm sorry. I hurt you very deeply." He slid his lips up along the werewolf's neck and face and kissed his closed eyes one at a time, the jinrou's long lashes tickling his lips.

"You ran." Seishin's voice had become hard-edged as if in resistance to the doctor's tenderness. He was determined to fight, not only the romantic overtures of the other man, but also the memories he'd conjured. Toshio's lips brushed against his without warning. The jinrou's breath hitched in his throat, and he held it there, lest he give himself up too readily.

"I know." Each syllable caused their lips to just touch. Seishin turned away. He'd not be won over so easily.

"You slept with me, and before I could even process what happened, before I could even speak, you put your clothes back on and..."

"I was wrong." Toshio looked down in shame even though the other man couldn't see.

"About what?" Seishin spat the words. There was a venomous growl in his throat that betrayed the maelstrom of emotions stirring within. Toshio blanched, but he did not let go of the jinrou's hand and he did not shrink back. He only sqeezed Seishin's hand more tightly, hoping the gesture would be interpreted as a sign of sincerity. The other man ignored this. "Were you wrong for fucking me, or were you wrong for what happened afterwards? You _ran_, Toshio! Do you have any idea what that does to a twenty year old outcast who had only one friend?"

"I'm aware…" Seishin only held up his free hand. His eyes snapped open, but they were not the forgiving eyes Toshio longed to see. They were fierce and red, and Toshio stopped talking at once. It seemed that the both of them had changed during their time apart. In some ways, their roles had been reversed. Now it was Toshio staring at Seishin's back as the latter walked away without hesitation.

"No you're not. I loved you. You must have known. I mean, I was pretty obvious. You took advantage of those feelings, you manipulated me, you slept with me, and then you _walked away_ as if I were nothing. You made me feel like you were ashamed of me. You made me ashamed of myself!"

"Seishin…."

"I'm not finished. How do you suppose I should have felt when you married Kyouko only one week later? Did you think I could just move on because you had? Or did you think that I was in the habit of having casual sex?" Seishin barked a sarcastic laugh and pressed his free hand to his temple. Toshio was ridiculous - so utterly, unforgivably ridiculous. "You know the worst of it was that I would have been content to remain your friend. I would have been satisfied with only that, but you gave me the hope of something more only to snatch it away! Tell me Toshio, what would you have done if the only bit of light in your small, small world had been taken from you with no explanation? You've no idea how cruel you can be." Seishin was ready to rage at the doctor mercilessly, but Toshio's next words stopped him short.

"I wanted to die too." The jinrou had forced his hand. Sure, he'd thought about killing himself briefly after their night together, but not for the same reasons as Seishin and certainly not for any considerable length of time. Toshio had realized too late that he'd crossed a line with his best friend that could not be uncrossed. He'd known that Seishin loved him. He'd always known, and maybe that's why he rushed headlong into the church that night. He knew Seishin wouldn't refuse him, that Seishin would gratefully accept whatever Toshio could offer, and ultimately, that Seishin wouldn't need anything more. It was a grievous miscalculation for which he'd been atoning over the last sixteen years.

Seishin's mouth dropped open briefly, but then he closed it again. "You've manipulated me before. Why should I believe you now?"

Toshio sighed. He'd have to explain himself. "I was scared and stupid, and I'd just had sex with another man—my best friend no less. I was worried about what the village would say if they found out. I was worried about what my parents would say, and about my girlfriend too. I was ashamed, but not of you - only myself. Mostly, I felt guilty. You loved me, and I took advantage of that because I was lonely and bored, and seduced by the desire to have someone all to myself." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind the jinrou's ear. Seishin flinched. Toshio's confession was surprising to the both of them. Had Toshio ever truly understood his actions all those years ago? He was beginning to see them clearly now, nearly two decades too late. Kyouko had been around the block, so to speak, and while he'd agreed to marry her because he liked her well enough, Toshio longed to have someone who was only his. The lure of possession was a powerful aphrodisiac, and Seishin always seemed to the doctor to be a little otherworldly, a little out of reach, and at the time, wholly uncorrupted. Toshio wanted what he thought he didn't deserve. He wondered how many of his true motivations Seishin had worked out before drawing the razor across his wrist. It must have been awful to feel so ill-used. "What I did was unforgivable. Of course I wanted die, at least at first. I was entirely too much of a coward to face the repercussions of my actions. That's the difference between us, Seishin. I never had the courage to hope for anything more than the obligations foisted upon me. You did."

"And look where it got me. Hope in Sotoba is nothing more than a gilded cage."

"Maybe. But you'd have been caged bird anywhere. Even now, you're not completely free. Why not come back? What do you have to lose?"

Seishin shook his head, dislodging the hair that Toshio had just pushed behind his ear. Toshio's tragic flaw had always been his inability to think through the implications of his behavior, or to think at all really. The man simply acted. This recklessness had led Toshio to come rushing into the church that night with alcohol on his lips and desperation in his step. It had led him to organize the hunt for Shiki in Sotoba without hesitation or remorse, and now, it had led him to pursue Seishin across an ocean without once considering how a reunion would affect them both. Seishin never understood how someone could be so unaware. "Too much has transpired between us, Toshio. There are no happily ever afters. Not anymore. Maybe you felt something for me back then. I think you probably feel something for me now, although I am sure you still hate to lose. But I made a choice. I chose Sunako. And while I'm sure she's the one who sent you here, I'm equally sure she would not have done so if she knew the entirety of our history."

"It's been so long. Can't you forgive me one youthful indiscretion?" The doctor's own eyes were closed now, his forehead resting against the werewolf's chest. Seishin's free arm longed to wrap itself around Toshio. He felt his anger abate. He'd never been able to stay upset with Toshio for very long, and therein lay the danger of their relationship.

"I forgave you long ago. But forgiving you does not mean that I'm willing to allow you back into my life." A sigh, and then he lifted the doctor's chin with his free hand. He lowered his voice to a whisper and smiled gently. "And by my count, this is the second such indiscretion."

"Then at least give me tonight." Toshio leaned in and kissed Seishin slowly, trying to imbue his kiss with all the things that he'd left unsaid. He knew if he could have tonight, he would be able to win him over. Seishin had never denied him before. He would not deny him now. And then, there would be happily ever afters once again. It was simple. All Toshio needed was a little time. "Please Seishin."

Seishin returned the kiss, knowing he'd regret his decision in the morning, but acquiescing anyway because he'd known from the minute Toshio had come crashing through his front door that he'd yield. Some things remain unchanged, after all. "Yes. You can have tonight."


	4. Seishin Muroi and Toshio Ozaki

NB: My deepest apologies for the time it's taken to write this chapter. I've been dealing with the fallout from the death of a very close friend and could not bring myself to write for a very long time. Again let me reassure you that I have not abandoned this project and will finish it.

A request: I have deleted at least one anonymous review of this story because it was indirectly criticial of other writers' work. I'm not at all opposed to critique of my own work. I want to know if you think this is garbage! Really. I am, however, requesting that you keep all critique of other writers out of your review (direct AND indirect references). I'm sorry if I've deleted your review, but I really am narcissistic enough to ask that all reviews be about my work. ;) I thank you for your indulgence. Of course, all praise for other writers' work is totally welcome in reviews and PMs. I'm always looking for great fics.

Content warnings include sex, a bit of blood, and some explicit language (Seishin's command of four-letter words is quite impressive for a priest). I do hope you like this. Please leave a review even if you don't – they help more than you know. Oh, and I don't own Shiki, but the folks that do are staggeringly brilliant.

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><p>Toshio needed no further permission. He leaned into Seishin's kiss, one hand sliding along the jinrou's cheek and coming to rest in soft, grey hair. Seishin's lips moved slowly over the doctor's own and he was content to enjoy the bittersweet-ness of their meeting for a time. But Toshio was also determined to have Seishin screaming the doctor's name over and over again until his voice grew hoarse. The good doctor had no doubt that the way to get his friend back would certainly involve getting his friend off, so to speak. As such, he deepened their kiss into something more desperate and searching, crushing his lips against the jinrou's, tugging again at Seishin's lips with his teeth first, and then, tentatively sliding the tip of his tongue along the point of the werewolf's fang. Seishin suddenly tensed and pulled away as though an electric current had passed between them.<p>

"Toshio. Wait."

"What's wrong?" Toshio pressed against him again, one hand still caught in his hair and the other resting dangerously low on his hip. He hoped the werewolf was not entertaining second thoughts.

"We have to be careful. We can't let my teeth break your skin."

"Oh that..." He let out a relieved chuckle. "I thought…nevermind. Don't worry. I won't let you turn me into a vampire."

"What did you expect?" Seishin looked puzzled for a moment before working it out. "Oh. I see. You thought I'd changed my mind?" Toshio simply nodded. He smiled indulgently at the doctor; Toshio was unintentionally alluring when he looked uncertain. It was so rare a phenomenon. Seishin's smile sharpened into a grin as he slipped his own hand between the doctor's legs and started rubbing him through his trousers. Toshio's mouth fell open in shock; Seishin had never been so...forward. _Where did he learn how to do all that with just his hand? _The ex-priest merely lengthened his smirk and continued holding Toshio's gaze. "I have no intention of letting you walk out of here without first taking my fill, Toshio." He sounded bored, rather like having a grown man at his mercy was an everyday occurrence. Inexplicably, this only served to speed the doctor's pulse.

Toshio uttered the only coherent thought he could manage at the moment. His torturer had somehow unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers without his realizing it, and the jinrou's hand was now pumping him in a mind-bendingly slow rhythm. "You've changed…" he gasped "more…proactive."

Seishin's single laugh had a dark edge to it. He sounded deadly when he laughed like that, and that coupled with the firm pressure of his palm against Toshio's sensitive skin made the hairs on the doctor's neck stand up. "Hmm. It's been sixteen years since you had me. Do you think I've spent the intervening time waiting for my chance to bed you again?"

Toshio would have liked to tell Seishin that the time for idle conversation had long elapsed, but given that his mind (and other parts of his body) were engaged at the moment, he could only choke out a feeble response: "Priest." Seishin was surely making him lose all motor function. His hands had become frozen – one remained tangled in Seishin's hair and the other still at his hip, leaving the doctor nothing in the way of retaliation. His knees buckled and he fell against the other man, mercifully dislodging the jinrou's hand from around his erection.

Seishin laughed again as he felt Toshio panting heavily against his neck. "Not. Anymore." Yes, Toshio had got the better of him earlier when he had the werewolf pinned against his own front door. Yes, the suddenness of the doctor's physical contact combined with his own supernatural sensitivity made the jinrou's reactions more pronounced. Yes, Seishin wanted Toshio with every fiber in his being, but he'd also spent a lifetime perfecting the art of delayed gratification, and although he longed desperately to feel Toshio's hands and lips trailing along his skin, he could rein in those desires for the present. It wouldn't do for Toshio to crash through his front door and assume control, after all. Things had changed. Seishin had changed. The other man should be made aware of this.

"Bedroom. Now." Toshio was commanding him now, and while Seishin thought the imperiousness was unnecessary considering that he was more than willing to comply with any order, he nevertheless found himself strangely turned on by Toshio's tone. Apparently he still enjoyed being under the doctor's directive.

"It's upstairs." The physician pulled him along by grabbing a fistful of his sweater and then yanking at it with both hands. Two bodies collided; lips, chests, arms, and groins moving against each other in a clothed pantomime of the real thing. Clothing lay discarded in their wake as Seishin pushed Toshio towards the stairs; his sweater in the hallway, Toshio's tshirt at the foot of the staircase. Both sets of trousers had been stripped away half-way up, and by the time the two reached the top of the staircase, only Seishin had managed to keep his boxers.

Seishin gently pushed Toshio away from him, hands still resting on the doctor's shoulders. Toshio was fully erect, his surprisingly trim chest covered in a sheen of sweat, his heart racing, and his pupils blown wide. Seishin had never seen the other man like this. Their last encounter was all too desperate and hurried, and neither had been given the opportunity to watch the other's body respond to pleasure. There was something about seeing Toshio respond so eagerly to the priest's touch that made him positively ravenous. The object of his scrutiny had reached similar conclusions about the jinrou when, without warning, he grabbed Seishin's hand and pulled him along the corridor with a kind of urgency that demanded compliance.

"Which one?"

"The second door on the right." Toshio opened the door. His eyes swept over the room. A paper lantern was suspended from the ceiling, suffusing the room in a pillowy shade of blue. A large, low bed occupied the far wall, the white bedding glowing invitingly under the lantern's light. To the right of the bed, the floor was raised a few feet and steps led to a solitary wooden desk from which one could look through floor-to-ceiling windows to the hills beyond. No doubt this is where the jinrou did most of his writing. The room was modern, sparsely furnished in a Japanese style, and very neat—exactly the sort of bedroom Toshio would expect Seishin to have. He was still analyzing the contents of the room and what they might suggest about his friend when he felt the werewolf's breath at his ear.

"Make yourself at home." Seishin moved past him, pulling the doctor along by their still-joined hands. He gently pushed the brunette backwards on the bed, causing the both of them to topple over. There was a half-hearted struggle between them and when Toshio emerged victorious, Seishin did not make a single sound of protest. Toshio loomed over him, his knees on either side of the werewolf's thighs, and then he leaned in to tug at Seishin's boxers with his teeth. Seishin lifted his hips, allowing the doctor to remove the final barrier preventing skin from meeting skin. He arched into Toshio, fully expecting to revel in the feel of the other man's erection against his own, but instead he felt the unmistakable warmth and moistness of tongue. _That_ had been unexpected, and as a result, all the air was stolen from his lungs. He bit into his lower lip to silence the unbecoming moans that threatened to spill out. He could feel Toshio's fingers pressing into his hip bone, pushing him back into the mattress while the doctor's clever tongue swirled against him. Toshio set a rapid pace, working a hand and his mouth with short strokes of intense pressure that had the jinrou clawing at the sheets. Seishin had just arrived at the conclusion that Toshio was no stranger to this sort of thing when without warning, without the smallest shred of mercy, Toshio carefully slid the tip of his canine along the werewolf's length. There was no biting back the howl that escaped Seishin's throat after that. His fang cut painfully into his lip. The pain was drowned out by the thought that he was going to climax right then, ending their evening all too soon. He placed a trembling hand in Toshio's hair, pulling gently to get the doctor's attention. "To-Toshio. Too fast."

Toshio looked up at his conquest and felt a gnawing sensation growing in his stomach. Bringing Seishin to the edge was thrilling. He considered the jinrou sexy, sure, but at the moment he realized how beautiful his friend was—delicate features, porcelain skin, and fairy-like eyes all belonging to the doctor. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, all pretense of seemliness having been abandoned as a result of Toshio's ministrations. A flush had spread across him, making his pale, pale skin seem to glow in the dim light. His mouth was hanging slightly open as he drew ragged breaths, a drop of blood clinging to the corner of his lips from where he'd cut himself. Toshio had moved in to lick the blood away when he suddenly felt Seishin's hand on his chest. "Don't." The jinrou's was still reeling from the adrenaline rush, so it took a moment for him to get the next word out. "Dangerous."

"I thought you had to bite me for this to turn dangerous." Toshio looked at his flushed companion again and tried to control his impulses. It was incredibly tempting to bring him to climax right then; the doctor knew it wouldn't require much effort. And he longed to see Seishin with hooded eyes and tousled hair. But he thought it might be in his interests to hear the other man out. In any other context 'dangerous' and 'sex' might make for an appealing idea, but given that he was having said sex with a werewolf, it seemed best to be cautious. _Besides, _he thought smugly, _this will be much more satisfying if I make him beg for it. _He smiled wickedly. He could be patient.

Seishin's breathing finally slowed enough for him to say more than a few disjointed words. "I don't know what drinking jinrou blood would do to a human. I don't want to hurt you."

The doctor was taken aback by this small gesture. Even now, Seishin seemed bent on protecting him. Toshio had invaded his home, manipulated his desires, and was prepared to have sex with him in a desperate ploy to keep him, yet the jinrou remained ever selfless. He brushed a strand of stray hair from the werewolf's forehead and placed a soothing hand against his cheek. "I know you don't." Before the other man could respond, Toshio kissed the far corner of Seishin's lips, carefully avoiding the blood, trailing softly along his neck and collarbone. Seishin relaxed at that, tilting his head to give better access. The more responsible part of Toshio's mind was pleading with him to stop, to walk away, to leave Signa at once. Their last such encounter had caused the jinrou so much heartache, after all. Toshio had almost convinced himself that he ought to stop when the jinrou once again wrapped his hand around the doctor's erection, moving up and down the shaft in maddeningly lazy strokes.

"Don't worry. I want you to, just like I wanted you to back then." The doctor banished all residual doubts from his mind and nodded in assent.

"Where's—"

"Nightstand. Second drawer." The brunette reached across his friend and opened the drawer of the nightstand. He grabbed the tube of lubricant and squeezed the cold gel onto his palms. Having warmed it, he slicked a generous amount over himself. The remainder he used to prepare Seishin, gently inserting one finger and then another, then scissoring them slowly. Seishin tensed slightly, closing his eyes and biting his lip again. His breathing grew shallow and erratic. For all his earlier talk about not waiting around to bed Toshio again, Seishin did not seem to be the profligate inamorato that Toshio imagined. Maybe he'd not been idle for the last sixteen years, but the way his body responded to the doctor's preparation suggested that he'd not been occupied by an unending series of carnal experiences either.

"Relax. This won't be like before." Seishin looked directly into Toshio's glossy, brown eyes. The doctor looked almost remorseful. This was the first time that Toshio mentioned their last encounter so bluntly, and his timing was as terrible as expected. He had not been gentle all those years ago. Seishin had not said no, and he certainly would not have denied Toshio, but he had wanted his first time to be an expression of intimacy, not a desperate pursuit of physical release. Toshio had been a disappointment in terms of intimacy, but Seishin would not have wanted to lose his virginity to anyone else.

The doctor later added that to the litany of things he'd regret.

He very slowly, very carefully entered Seishin, and finally, after having buried himself to the hilt, he kept perfectly still so that the sensation of _hot-tight-hot-tight-hot_ would not immediately send him over the edge.

"Toshio." On the other hand, the jinrou was rather impatient.

"Shit. Sorry. I tried to go easy. Are you okay?"

"I would be better than okay if you would move!"

He let out a relieved laugh, and then pulled out slowly and pushed back, mimicking the steady, slow pace that Seishin had set with his hand only moments ago. He thrust further forward with each stroke, the last of which elicited a desperate yelp from the man struggling beneath him.

"Faster." Seishin felt Toshio brush against his prostrate and was keen to experience that sensation over and over again.

"No." The doctor leaned forward, causing both of them to gasp suddenly. He pressed his lips against the jinrou's cheek. Seishin's eyes were again clamped shut, his hands tangled in the bedding. Every muscle in his lithe body contracted as Toshio's movements caused pressure to build. With a physician's keenness, Toshio could see that he was likely going to snap if he didn't climax soon.

"Please...I can't...I need." Seishin panted. A sweeping heat was working its way through his limbs; sweat beaded along his skin. He tried to move in time with the doctor; to collide with him in hopes of intensifying the sensation, but Toshio's hands were still pressing him against the bed, pinning him in place, and while Seishin was no doubt the stronger of the two men, he found that he could not fight against the slow burn taking hold of his body.

"No." The werewolf made a sound somewhere between a moan and a whine, and Toshio nuzzled his neck, gracing the warm skin there with quick pecks. "I want to savor you." It was true. There was something about watching Seishin fall apart that he found exhilarating. The man he'd met on the hillside several hours ago had been so cold and dismissive. But all that frigidness seemed to be dissipating with each roll of Toshio's hips.

He continued in that fashion, moving in agonizingly unhurried strokes that caused the jinrou to tremble and buck in an effort to increase the friction between them if not the pace. And while Toshio was intent on prolonging the evening, he could not ignore the heat coiling low in his abdomen. He tried to maintain his rhythm, but his hips seemed to be acting of their own accord now. His thrusting sped up involuntarily, eliciting a contented moan from the jinrou. Toshio grabbed Seishin's erection, pumping him in time with his strokes when finally he felt liquid heat spread across his fingers. He continued moving until he too climaxed, and then he gently pulled out of his friend. He curled into the man at his side almost immediately afterwards. It was not characteristic of the doctor to be so expressive after sex, but he wanted to be close to Seishin, as though by breaching the physical barrier between them, he could somehow breach the psychological one. He'd come so far to find him, after all. Maybe crossing an ocean would prove his sincerity. When his heart rate slowed, Toshio chanced a glance at the jinrou and was floored to see that he was smiling contentedly at no one in particular.

"What?" He asked, instantly becoming defensive. Toshio thought that the evening had been a success, but now he was unsure. He'd not given Seishin opportunity to speak after their last time so he did not know how to read the jinrou's demeanor._  
><em>

"That was…incredible. Nothing like before." Seishin's smile looked more reassuring as he turned towards the doctor. "I'd always wanted you in that way. It's like you figured out my fantasy and endeavored to make it a reality."

Toshio laughed. "If only all my lovers thought that. I could make a decent living as a host, you know."

Seishin nearly choked at the thought of Toshio the gigolo, and then he realized what was said. "Is that what you want me to be? Your lover."

Sleep was working its way into the doctor's voice, giving it a rough quality that made it that much more appealing. He was exhausted - far too exhausted for any substantive conversation, but he could not let the evening end without talking to his friend. "I don't know what I want you to be Seishin. I just don't want to be without you."

That was not what Seishin wanted to hear, but at least it was honest. Toshio's aim had been possession all along. The priest would have been furious with himself for letting things go so far if he wasn't already resigned to the fact that Toshio didn't love him, at least not in any meaningful way. But having cut his losses several hours ago, the jinrou only felt hurt. He did not feel betrayed. The doctor was clearly exhausted. Toshio would inevitably say or do something rash if he didn't rest. He was only human, after all. Seishin pressed a kiss to the brunette's forehead and wrapped an arm around him. "Go to sleep."

"No." Toshio couldn't risk falling asleep. The fear of waking to an empty bed kept his eyes from staying closed for longer than a few fleeting moments.

"I'm here. We'll talk when you wake up. I promise." With that, his eyes fluttered shut and he was fast asleep within minutes. Seishin swept his thumb across Toshio's lips and barely brushed his own against them. "I love you." A solitary tear fell against the doctor's cheek, but he was too far gone to feel it.

* * *

><p>When Toshio woke, Seishin had cleaned them both up and re-dressed in flannel pajamas. He'd even managed to get Toshio's boxers back on. The jinrou was propped up beside the doctor, one hand wound in Toshio's hair and the other holding a book. Seishin disentangled his fingers and flipped a page, immediately slipping his hand through the brunette's locks again. Toshio relished the warmth of the werewolf's proximity. He'd not shared a bed with anyone in such a long, long time. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to dream without fear. The sensation of being held against another warm body was so soothing that he contemplated feigning sleep to let it linger.<p>

"I know you're awake. I have very keen senses." The lantern had been turned off and Toshio couldn't see Seishin very clearly, but he thought he heard playfulness in his friend's words. Maybe things would work out to his benefit after all.

"I see that." He remarked, noting that the jinrou had been reading by moonlight alone. How he could make out the words was beyond the doctor's professional capabilities. Seishin snapped the book shut and turned his attention to the half-naked man at his side. "Wait, what's the deal with the glasses then?"

"Tragically misunderstood writer, remember?"

"Right." The moonlight streaming through the window lent a soft luminescence to the werewolf's skin. He wondered what it would be like to wake to the other man every morning. He smiled at the thought, thankful that Seishin's preternatural abilities did not extend to mind-reading. "What now?" He sat up, allowing the jinrou's hand to slip away from him. Instantly he felt colder.

Seishin seemed prepared for the conversation. In truth, he'd been rehearsing his lines and erecting his defenses while Toshio slept. He handed Toshio a glass of water. The doctor took it gratefully; sex always made him inexplicably thirsty when he woke - not that he would complain. It was like a delicious hangover. "Now you go home. That was the deal."

"What?"

"Oh, I see. You thought you'd fuck me into acquiescence, did you?" Toshio blanched at the sudden profanity. Seishin had once again shifted personalities without warning. He'd managed to go from attentive lover to a mocking adversary in a heartbeat. _How can he hold me like that yet curse me out just two minutes later? _

"Fuck. Okay. Where is all this…aggression coming from? This isn't like you at all."

"How would you know what I'm like?" Perhaps the most disturbing thing was that he was able to say such things without infusing even a hint of anger or hurt in his tone. The lack of any feeling in his words made them seem all the more harsh. Toshio would have preferred anger to apathy. "And frankly, I'm not being aggressive at all. I explained to you the nature of our contract earlier. You got one night. It was an amazing night, I'll give you that, but one night is all I'm prepared to render."

So there it was - Seishin had managed to sleep with him without demonstrating any emotional attachment. The doctor's conscience made its unwelcome return. _Well, now you know how it feels. __Revenge is a bitch, isn't she? _He would have liked to argue back, but he knew the unfailing accuracy of the charge levied against him, and he'd also discovered that talking to yourself in the presence of others generally ends badly. Toshio never learned to fully guard his emotions at such short notice, so his next words were not as measured as those of his companion: "Why are you so determined to _hate_ me?" _Fuck! Why did I say that? _He took a long sip from his water in hopes of stalling. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. He'd given the werewolf plenty of reasons to hate him, after all. Seishin could have worked out an alphabetized list.

"This would be much easier if I did. I love you, Toshio. I always have. And I can't have you around because you've made it clear that you don't reciprocate those feelings."

"That's unfair. I do care about you."

"I know you do. Why else would you come all this way? But it's not enough. Sunako loves me, perhaps not in the same way that I love you, but her love is not predicated upon her loneliness or dissatisfaction with her own life. And I will not trade that for someone who cares about me, but clearly cares more about having me. I am not your crutch. Not anymore."

"This is not about possession." Seishin shook his head.

"Isn't it? You said that you didn't want to be without me. You never said that you wanted to be _with_ me. Perhaps you think I'm mincing words, but for me, it is the only thing that matters. I don't want you to need me. I want you to love me. I merit as much, I think."

"Why can't we be friends? Like before?"

"Because I'll never be satisfied with your friendship or an occasional romp. And you'll never think of me as anything more than that."

Toshio wanted to argue back, to reassure Seishin that he returned the werewolf's affections, but he wasn't sure of anything anymore. He'd lied about his feelings in the past, and it drove a wedge between the two men that had never been healed. He couldn't resort to such manipulation now. The doctor's mind had been overrun with thoughts of winning his friend back. He'd wanted someone who would understand him, who wouldn't judge him, who would see him through the nightmares, and would fill the lonely spaces in his world. He'd never considered how selfish he was for seeking such things. He could see it clearly now, and it horrified him more than all of his previous sins against Seishin combined. _I really am a selfish bastard. Even now, I want to have him all to myself. The only thing that's changed is that he's finally figured out that he deserves better. _He'd just opened his mouth to speak again when he realized that his head had become unnaturally heavy. The room spun. Seishin's outline blurred and although he squinted in hopes of clearing his vision, he found it impossible to see. The symptoms were all too familiar and he knew exactly what to expect next. Finally, his eyelids drooped closed once again. Seishin removed the glass from his hand before it it slipped from his grip and kissed him just as the blackness completely obscured his vision. "I'm sorry. It had to be done." The last thought that crossed his mind before he blanked out completely was that his best friend had poisoned him.

* * *

><p>Seishin showered and dressed once again in dark slacks and a sweater. He'd retrieved Toshio's clothes and folded them, placing them beside the doctor so that he would have something to wear when he woke up. He took the cigarettes, however, and lit one up as he settled himself behind his writing desk. Toshio was sprawled face-down on Seishin's bed, his tanned skin particularly striking against the white bedding, his tousled hair infinitely alluring. The werewolf let his gaze linger over the muscles in the doctor's back and was considering tracing patterns in Toshio's skin with his fingers when he caught sight of Sunako slipping through the door. She was always silent when she moved, and had he not seen her, she would have seen him fawning over the unconscious man in the bed. He thanked a nonexistent God for happy coincidences.<p>

"He looks dead." She glanced at the doctor. "Dare I ask what you did to him?" She arched an eyebrow in the jinrou's direction.

He laughed softly. "I gave him something to help him sleep. He'd never have shut up otherwise." Seishin leaned back and crossed his long legs on top of the desk. He offered Sunako the chair opposite him. She often sat there when he read to her. "You told him how to find me." It wasn't an accusation; there was no such thing as blame or betrayal when it came to his relationship with Sunako. There was simply action and motivation, and neither hid any of their actions or motivations from the other. This made their relationship easy in the way his relationship with Toshio could never be.

"I did." Seishin had known Sunako for six years, and despite the fact that they were always unflinchingly honest with each other, he knew that he'd barely scratched the surface in terms of discovering who she really was. He only knew that he loved what he saw—a determined and fierce woman who could be heartbreakingly fragile at the same time. She'd often retreat into herself, and he knew that like himself, she bore a sadness that no companion could reach, that no amount of time could heal. Perhaps it was this melancholy that bound them and facilitated their openness with each other. It was difficult to dissemble in front of another who understood you far too well. Sunako settled herself in the chair and pulled a cigarette from Toshio's pack. Seishin leaned in to light it for her. She inhaled and immediately pulled a face. "These are terrible. I don't understand the appeal." She kept smoking anyway.

"They taste like him."

"You're remembering him already? He's lying naked in your bed. Don't you think it's too soon?"

"I've said my goodbyes."

"That's unfortunate. I hoped you would go with him." The words were so unexpected that Seishin nearly tumbled out of his chair. She actually wanted him to leave? For what reason?

"Why would you want that? What if I don't want to go? What if I'd rather stay with you?"

"You love him more."

"He tried to kill you. Have you forgotten?"

"I invaded his home and turned his friends into vampires. I'd say that makes us even. And this is not about him, or me. It's about you. And you can't deny that your feelings for him are stronger than your feelings for me."

"They're not. I just love him differently."

"Seishin, don't mistake me. I'm not trying to slight you. I have felt more for you than anyone else, except perhaps Chizuru. My love for you is not conditional, nor does it require yours in recompense. You have a chance at a life that is more than a series of experiences linked together by nothing more than the mere fact of your existence. Shiki are immortal, but the irony is that we so rarely live. I want you to have everything I can't."

He didn't have to think too hard to get her meaning. "No. What you're saying is that you want me to get laid. Do you really expect me to believe that you and I don't have a life worth pursuing simply because it doesn't conform to hackneyed notions of happiness? I stopped believing in this kind of hopelessly romantic tripe when Sotoba went up in flames. I doubt I ever really believed in it anyway. I'm not going with him just because he'll sleep with me, or because one day, if I wish really hard, he'll agree to be my boyfriend. Sex is not humanity's defining characteristic and neither is love, and even if they were, I can find them elsewhere." He waved his hand in dismissal. _I can't believe she'd buy into this 'a life without love is no life at all' nonsense. And why should I go with Toshio of all people?_

"I would give you my opinion on that matter, but as you know I have no data from which to form a conclusion."

He often felt sorry for her; to be trapped in a child's body meant that you were treated as a child. Indeed, Sunako had never felt the touch of a lover. She'd never tasted the kinds kisses that had left Seishin's lips tingling with want. She could never experience what he'd experienced with Toshio that night. She had the body of a pre-adolescent girl, after all. If she ever felt anything resembling romantic love, Seishin never knew about it. Maybe she'd given up on the thought of romance when she realized that such a relationship could never be consummated. The jinrou was no expert in that area, to be sure, but he'd had sexual partners and he'd had Toshio (whatever Toshio was). And now that he was confronted with a tangible example of a life without such relationships, he felt remarkably selfish. _How easy for me to say something like that to her, and how utterly thoughtless._ How could he dismiss Sunako's sentiments so easily? Was he guilty of the same myopia as Toshio?

"Sunako, I'm so-"

"I don't want your apology, Seishin. I only want you to be happy."

"I'm happy with you."

"And what if you could be happier with him?"

"Don't be ridiculous. He doesn't love me. He only wants to own me. I could never be happier with someone like that. Besides, who would take care of you if I've gone?"

She laughed at that. A genuine, tinkling laugh of the sort that he adored. "Look at you. Six years a jinrou, and you think that you're taking care of me? I have over a hundred years on you. I am quite capable of seeing to my own needs."

"I didn't mean it in terms of obligation. I enjoy taking care of you, of reading you stories, of making you happy. We may not be a couple, Sunako, but we have a life. We have a home. And it's enough for me." Seishin sighed tiredly. It seemed that they were talking in circles. "What's all this about anyway? You've never done anything of the sort before."

It was her turn to adopt a disturbingly neutral tone of voice. He could only guess at what such a tone might mean. "I told you. Your happiness is my only concern. I may not always be around, you know."

His words took on a sharp urgency then. "What do you mean by that? Are you planning on leaving me?" He'd never considered that Sunako might leave. He'd always imagined that she was content to be by his side. Given recent string of events, however, this assumption seemed inaccurate. She was the one who'd allowed Toshio Ozaki to upend their domestic idyll. Panic was inching its way through his veins, making his heart beat fast and his throat go dry. Sunako could see these minute changes; she too had very keen senses. She also knew he'd never fully understand why she invited Toshio to Signa. At least not tonight.

"No, no. Nothing like that. I want to live only with you." He relaxed immediately. She seemed particularly sad tonight, he realized, and before he could make any inquiries, she stubbed out her cigarette in an abandoned water glass. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm feeling a bit jealous. I suppose I was testing your devotion, but that's all over now. It's too difficult to watch you with him."

"I hope you weren't watching."

"Of course not. You know what I mean."

"I do. But you know that I am yours. Completely."

She slid off the chair and walked around the desk to kiss him on the cheek. He watched her trail away, still baffled by their conversation. It had been a long day; he'd talk with her again some other time. Sunako looked over her shoulder before she pulled the door shut behind her. "You know, I never knew what you saw in him." She glanced appreciatively in Toshio's direction. "But he's very sexy all disheveled and tousled like that."

* * *

><p>Toshio woke to a tongue licking his face, and he was admittedly disappointed to realize that it wasn't Seishin's. Kuro seemed only too happy to see his master again, and the doctor was pleased to find the dog in such high spirits and not exsanguinated. He then slowly recalled the memories of the night—the walk to Seishin's house, the initial argument, the amazing make-up sex, the mid-night conversation, and then, the poisoning. Well, whatever the jinrou had given him, it was designed only to knock him out. Apart from feeling a bit groggy, Toshio felt fine. He pressed his fingers against the base of his neck to search for puncture wounds, but then stopped himself. He knew that neither Seishin nor Sunako had bitten him. They wouldn't need to drug him to do so. It dawned on him that the room was entirely too quiet. The significance of the silence had not yet come to him. He turned his head to find two aspirin, a glass of water, and a piece of paper on the nightstand. He took the aspirin gratefully and was about to yell his thanks to Seishin when remnants of last night's conversation trickled back into his consciousness. He turned his attention to the note that was written in his friend's graceful script, knowing precisely what it meant even before he read the words:<p>

_Toshio,_

_Thank you for last night; it was everything it ought to have been. My apologies for cutting short our conversation, but I think you'll agree that it was the only way. _

_I'm selling this house. Please don't come looking for me again. You will find nothing of what you seek._

_All my love,_

_-S._


	5. Seishin Muroi, Chapter One

NB: This begins with Toshio, although the story will shift more towards Seishin's perspective. You'll see why. Also, there's been a time lapse of several months between the last chapter and this one. Our favorite fellas are each dealing with their last encounter in their own ways. Seishin has been productive; Toshio has been...well, Toshio.

Finally, this chapter seems to be the lightest of the lot in terms of tone. I hope you'll think of it as a reprieve of sorts from our angsty little tale.

* * *

><p>"Dr. Toshio Ozaki speaking." Toshio picked up the phone, his voice still rough with sleep, his eyes blearily looking around at the sun-drenched room. <em>What time is it? <em>He was violently hungover. Last night's events seemed just out of the reach of his consciousness. He hadn't blacked out, of that he was sure, but his brain seemed to be processing information at an alarmingly slow rate this morning. He hoped this mental sluggishness would dissipate by the time he showed up to work.

"Oooooh, you sound so sexy when you're just waking up." She laughed.

He struggled to remember her name, and then he breathed a sigh of relief as he finally hit upon it. "Chiyo." The previous evening was trickling back to the doctor now. He'd gone out with several colleagues for dinner, including the new busty resident Chiyo. He'd then asked Chiyo and only Chiyo to join him for after-dinner drinks. Of course she'd agreed. He was Toshio Ozaki, and although he'd carefully cultivated the image of the emotionally unavailable middle-aged widower, he'd found that all his posturing was for naught. Instead of warding women off, he often had the opposite effect. Apparently there was something about a broken man that even successful, attractive women found irresistible. As a result, a number of his colleagues had propositioned him, and while he'd generally been quite good about declining their offers in a charming, self-deprecating sort of way, the more persistent of their ilk would always show up to after-work social events in impossibly high heels and low-cut blouses. In the past, Toshio had simply excused himself early from such gatherings. He was too tired to pursue a relationship with anyone. Besides, Kuro was the jealous sort. Since his rendezvous with Seishin nearly a year ago, however, the doctor found that he desperately needed to be distracted when he wasn't at work. At present, this distraction was taking the form of several drinks a night. Last night his bout of drinking had been followed by Chiyo, apparently. Toshio prayed he'd not slept with her. That would make his work life entirely too awkward. He took a deep breath. "What happened last night?"

She giggled. It was an incredibly girlish sound and he found that it rather repulsed him. _I hope I didn't do anything stupid. _"Don't you remember, To-chan?" _She just called me To-chan._ _Fuck. _

"I remember drinking myself into a stupor and asking you to drive me home." He felt nauseous, but he wasn't sure if the feeling was a result of his hangover or his fear of what might have transpired between them.

She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Do you remember what happened then?"

"It's a bit of a blur."

"Hmm. Well let me refresh your memory. All of Tokyo got a free show last night." And that was when the images came flooding back to him. Chiyo stripping in front of a very tipsy Toshio who'd been pushed onto his own sofa; Chiyo removing Toshio's clothes despite his half-hearted protests; Chiyo's full lips trailing from his neck to his groin; and finally Chiyo, pushed against Toshio's sparkling floor-to-ceiling windows, digging her nails into his shoulders and screaming his name while he thought only of olive-colored eyes and pale skin shimmering under the moonlight. _That was the third most stupid thing I've ever done. _He felt along his shoulder, wanting to make doubly-sure that he had not invented this latest drama, but her nail marks were very much real. He sighed, forgetting that she could hear him. "Are you okay?"

He lied. "I'm fine. I'm just hungover."

"Well, do you want me to bring you something?" Her voice had a cloying cadence, and Toshio resisted the urge to slam the phone onto the receiver.

"I'm a doctor. I think I can handle a hangover."

"To-chan?"

"Hmm."

"Are you sure you're okay? You sound angry with me." He relented. It wouldn't do to burn bridges at his place of employment. As such, he'd have to find a way to disengage himself from the doting girl without incurring her anger. And he'd have to do so soon.

"I think I'll be fine by 8 o'clock."

"What's happening at 8 o'clock?"

He didn't want to, but he really didn't have a choice. "I was hoping you'd drop by." _So I can tell you how very un-interested I am. _

She giggled again. Toshio cringed. "I'll see you then. I'll bring dinner. I hope you'll work up an appetite by then."

"See you tonight." He replaced the phone on the receiver and scrubbed his face with his hands. He sat up gingerly, making sure that the sudden movement wouldn't cause him to vomit all over his sheets. Kuro sulked into the room, devoid of his usual playfulness. He growled at Toshio from the doorway; clearly the retriever felt betrayed. "I'm sorry Kuro. You'd have done the same." The dog simply stalked out of the room as though he fully understood Toshio's words. "Not you too." The doctor stood up then and was pleasantly surprised to find that the room did not spin as he did so. He flipped the radio on as he made his way to the bathroom. It was going to take a great deal of work to make himself even marginally presentable this morning. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and nearly choked. Chiyo had left a sizable bruise on his neck. _Goddamnit. _He was in the process of cataloging which of his very few dress shirts and ties were un-wrinkled when the voices issuing from the radio stopped him short.

"That's right, Tokyo. Tonight at 8, we're going to be talking with fantasy author Sesto Moretti about his latest novel." The man had a typical announcer's voice—a rich baritone that seemed perpetually on the verge of laughing.

"What a treat. You know I hear he never gives interviews." His co-host was a woman who sounded disturbingly like Chiyo. Toshio would have turned the show off under any other circumstances.

"He doesn't, but he's agreed to speak with me tonight. I'm very excited. I've been a big fan of his for the last several years, and this last book was incredible…"

Toshio turned on the tap to drown out their voices. Seishin was alive and well. Seishin was in Tokyo. Seishin was giving interviews. _Seishin_. Toshio had read the jinrou's latest novel too, and he had to agree with the radio announcer. It was incredibly moving. It was nothing like his previous offerings, which were all tales of men abandoned by God or lost in a sea of misery. It was a love story, and it was all about Toshio. He'd gathered as much from the first page. Seishin had described a handsome doctor living in a small village who'd been loved from afar by a girl promised to another man. It wasn't exactly autobiographical, but all the major details were there. There was the fiery hero whose station and sense of duty made him nothing more than an impossible dream for the girl who worshipped him at a distance. There was the tiny village, whose meddling residents prevented the doctor and the girl from seeing each other but for a few brief moments. There were the girl's own obligations to serve the husband that was chosen for her at birth. There were supernatural elements in the story too - fairies and sprites and an evil warlock or two. Seishin was a fantasy writer, after all. But, ultimately, the priest had made a hauntingly beautiful confession of his love through his words and the doctor couldn't help but be flattered. He was, however, a bit disturbed by the fact that the novel did not end happily. Toshio was admittedly ashamed of how he'd slighted Seishin after their last encounter. He realized too late the sad truth—that even though he was incapable of the kind of love that the jinrou wanted, he would have spent a lifetime endeavoring to deserve him. Or at least in his current sleep-deprived and consequently unguarded frame of mind, he thought he'd have made such an effort.

_It doesn't matter now. He never let you finish speaking, did he? _

Recently, these sorts of conversations with his conscience had become more frequent. "I had already told him that I didn't know what I wanted him to be to me."

_So?_

"So I didn't give him enough. I've never given him enough. That's why he stayed with Sunako."

_He's impossible to please. Why can't he be happy with what you could give him? Why couldn't he accept you for who you are? How come you're never enough?_

Toshio opened his mouth to respond but found that he could not form a suitable reply. His conscience was right. Seishin's standards were impossible. Toshio couldn't be the ideal hero in one of the jinrou's novels. He was too broken, too defeated, too world-weary to have much to render to a lover, but Seishin was unsatisfied with anything less that undying devotion. _What the hell does he want? A ring? A picket fence? 2.5 kids? _So the doctor had made an elementary mistake by not articulating precisely why he couldn't give himself over to Seishin completely, but he'd have explained himself eventually if the other man had just talked to him. But Seishin had not allowed Toshio to speak. Seishin had unfairly assumed control of the whole conversation. Seishin had poisoned him. _That jinrou bastard. I didn't deserve that. _He splashed cold water on his face. The anger inching through his veins sobered him up considerably, and by the time that he reached the hospital, Dr. Toshio Ozaki was himself once again.

* * *

><p>Toshio's victory was short-lived. A patient death had deflated him. Chiyo's insistence on "checking up" on him had not done the doctor one whit of good, and by the time his shift was over, he was already looking forward to a double scotch. He drove home in record speed, cursing the traffic and loosening his tie and dress shirt all the while. The day couldn't get much worse, and then he remembered that he'd asked Chiyo to come over tonight. He dropped himself into the sofa. Kuro had apparently forgiven him; the dog plopped down beside him, his head in the doctor's lap in a show of apology or exhaustion - Toshio couldn't discern the difference. He poured a large measure of scotch into a glass and pulled out his phone to text Chiyo:<p>

"Hi. I'm sorry, but can I take a rain check for tonight? I'm not feeling up for company right now." She wasn't going to like that, he knew, but he had stopped caring around the time his patient's heart stopped.

"Sure honey. I understand. You take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything, okay?" He barked a sharp laugh at that.

"I will." Another lie. How was it that he seemed to attract people that were doomed to be hurt by him? Chiyo wasn't unkind. She was quite attractive too, and a very skilled doctor. There was nothing not to like. Honestly, an old curmudgeon like him should feel lucky that a nubile young thing like her would even be interested. Toshio closed his eyes. _I think I'm incapable of proper human sentiment. Sotoba has turned me into an empty shell of a man. _He threw back his scotch and considered pouring another before he abandoned the glass altogether and started sipping from the bottle.

By 7:30, he was roaringly drunk. He turned on the radio against his better judgment. Being so spectacularly wasted meant that he was liable to do something incredibly foolish. He sank back into the sofa, one hand scratching behind Kuro's ears and the other still clutching a half-empty bottle of scotch. He listened._  
><em>

The announcer from the morning show was particularly jubilant. "We're here with the very popular and even more reclusive author Sesto Moretti, who's with us in the studio now and is surprisingly not Italian, unless I am very much mistaken."

Seishin laughed. Over the airwaves, the jinrou's voice had a richer resonance, giving the illusion of mystery and danger. Toshio's breath caught at that; how he missed that laugh. If he'd been sober, he'd have chastised himself for being so sentimental. "Not at all. I am indeed Japanese."

"Now that's very interesting. TPR has been trying to get an interview with you for years, but we were always told that you were out of the country and unavailable. Should I be offended?"

"Well, I do spend a considerable amount of time in Italy so I likely was out of the country when you called my agent."

"I see. And why Italy? Do you have an Italian muse?"

Another laugh, a nervous one this time. "I'd like to keep my private life private, if that's okay."

"I had a feeling you'd say that. You're as famous for being a hermit as you are for being a writer. In fact, this is the first time you've ever put in a personal appearance. Why so shy?"

"Well, I don't think I ever really sought fame. Don't get me wrong; the money is nice and it's certainly given me the freedom to write at my leisure, and I'm thankful for all the support, but I only ever wanted to tell stories. I've always felt like the best way to show my appreciation to my fans was to write, and write often. I didn't do interviews and book tours because I prefer to spend my time working on the next book."

Toshio smiled darkly. _Well, that and you don't want anyone to pick up on the fact that you don't age. _

"But you're doing an interview now."

"Yes, I am. I suppose I'm here because this book has generated so much attention that I thought it would be rude of me not to give my thanks in person."

"Yes, let's talk about that. This book has been exceedingly popular, even for you. Why do you think it's been so well-received?"

"That's a difficult question. But I think it's because I finally wrote a romance. Everything else I'd written could be classified as either horror or fantasy, but this is very much a love story with some fantastical elements."

"And people love love stories, don't they?"

"Yes. It seems that romance might be the tie that binds humanity together. Whether you've been deliriously happy or irreparably heartbroken, you've no doubt been marked by love in some form or another. So I think that people identify with the story. They feel for the characters because they too know what it's like to be tossed about by the vicissitudes of love."

The doctor nearly spit out his drink. _I don't believe that you really believe that, Seishin. You're a heartless bastard just like me. How else could you be so dismissive after I traveled half-way across the world to see you?_

"Well, that may be true, but you're doing yourself a disservice. I've read this book, and I've been a long time fan. This is by far the best novel you've ever written."

Seishin laughed again, and Toshio could picture the blush that was no doubt making its way across the werewolf's cheeks. He felt heat coiling low in his abdomen and did his best to ignore it. "I'm flattered. Thank you so much."

"That Italian muse of yours must be something." Silence. "Folks, I know you can't see it at home, but notoriously anti-social writer Sesto Moretti is in the studio right now, and you won't believe it – He's blushing." Seishin cleared his throat, but only Toshio heard the alarm in the gesture.

"I'm sorry, but I had to tell them that you're not so aloof after all. You're actually rather charming." Toshio's ears perked up at that, and now he found that in his utterly uninhibited state he was feeling something akin to jealousy. _That announcer just hit on Seishin. _That old possessiveness was beginning to creep under his skin again. The fuzziness caused by the scotch was turning into something sharper, something with intent.

"Uh…thanks. I think." Seishin's voice had become tentative and shaky under the scrutiny of the interviewer. Toshio's free hand curled into a fist involuntarily.

"Okay, okay. I think I've tortured him enough. How about we take some questions from fans?"

"I'd like that."

Toshio had dialed the radio station's number before he even registered what he was doing. He waited on the line not at all expecting to get through, but get through he did, and although he should have disconnected the line when the show's assistant told him that he'd be next on-air, he remained holding. _Let's see how charming you are now, you jerk. _The alcohol had made its way through the entirety of the doctor's bloodstream now, and any sort of check he'd typically place on his own behavior had been disarmed. Toshio was determined to get his revenge on the unsuspecting jinrou...and that playboy interviewer too.

"Hello caller, you're on the air with Atushi and Sesto Moretti. What's your name?"

"You can call me To-chan." He wasn't exactly slurring, but his words did seem a bit disjointed and slow. "I've read enough of Signor Moretti's novels to feel like we're friends. Best friends, even." Toshio might have been imagining it, intoxicated as he was, but he thought he heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. A dangerous smirk found its way across his lips.

The interviewer laughed good-naturedly. "Huh. Well, To-chan, you're not alone there. What's your favorite novel?"

"Personally I like _Village of the Damned. _It was so vividly written that it's been giving me nightmares for over a year."

"Yes, that one was quite terrifying. What do you have to say to that, Sesto? You gave poor To-chan nightmares!"

The jinrou's voice lost its earlier buoyancy. He sounded defeated. Toshio recognized the apology in his tone, but he didn't want Seishin's apology, he wanted Seishin to feel as helpless as he did when he woke up in an abandoned Italian villa.

"My deepest apologies. I did not intend to hurt you, or anyone else."

The interviewer gave another hearty guffaw before addressing Toshio again. "So, To-chan, did you call just to make Sesto apologize for disturbing your sleep, or do you have a question for him?"

"I've got a million questions, each more pressing than the last."

Another round of chuckles from the DJ, but nothing from the jinrou. "Let's hear the first."

"Okay. Sesto." Toshio spoke the name in a mocking lilt. "How come none of your novels have happy endings?"

Seishin cleared his throat again. "Well, I suppose I'd believe in happy endings if they were as ubiquitous in the world as most novelists would have us believe."

The interviewer cut in. "But you write fantasy, not reality."

The confidence returned to the jinrou's voice; he was in his element when he was talking about his craft. "Yes, I write fantasy, but even fantasy must contain some semblance of reality for the narrative to work. Happy endings have always seemed forced to me – like painting a sunrise on a window so you don't have to look at the rain."

Toshio took his chance. "It doesn't have to be that way, you know."

"I think it does. It seems to me that there are circumstances wherein two people simply cannot live happily ever after, even if there are shared feelings between them." It was Seishin talking now, not his horribly pretentious alter-ego, and while a small part of Toshio knew that he should feel guilty, he felt only anger. Seishin had cut off all communication between them. The circumstances of which he spoke were contrived by his own hand. _How dare you pretend that you're a victim of circumstances beyond your control? You are not the victim here, old friend._

"Well, you should have thought about that before you poisoned your best friend after he so generously fucked you into oblivion!"

A shrill screech sounded from the radio. Toshio smiled triumphantly; his profanity coupled with the words he knew would be tumbling from the jinrou's mouth no doubt contributed to TPR's current "technical difficulties." He laughed raucously, startling Kuro who'd been curled up at his side all the while. He'd damaged their relationship beyond all repair, he knew, but having Seishin at his mercy like that had been worth it. Making the jinrou react so strongly in front of all of Tokyo had been worth it. Reasserting his hold on the other man had been more than worth it. It wasn't like the jinrou would show up to his apartment to scold him. There was nothing between them any longer; Toshio could do as he liked. He fell back on the sofa, drunk off his scotch and his victory, and before Kuro could trot back to his side, the doctor had fallen asleep.

* * *

><p>Seishin paced. Sunako watched in trepidation. He'd ripped the microphone off himself and stalked out of the radio station without a backwards glance on the heels of Toshio's outburst. The jinrou sneaked out of the back entrance, fearful that the doctor had been keeping watch outside. His drive back to his home in a village six hours from Tokyo had been tortuously slow. He had wanted to get out of the city, to put as much distance between himself and Toshio as possible, to come home to Sunako where he could find peace at last.<p>

Seishin had never learned how to process anger. He'd trained himself to project a kind of calming stillness so that the villagers would feel comfort in his presence. Having been expert at burying his emotions in the presence of others, he typically dealt with them by writing or reading. After several hours, he'd emerge from the little church on the temple grounds to find that he'd reached a sort of emotional equilibrium almost automatically. That was before Toshio had outed him in front of the whole country. What the jinrou felt at the moment could only be described as rage. His step was so heavy that Sunako was sure he'd leave grooves in their hardwood floor. His hands were curled at his sides and his head was bowed, but she could make out his glowing ruby eyes even as they remained downcast.

Seishin suddenly spun on his heel. He picked up a potted orchid and threw it at the window which opened up onto the patio. The window shattered, allowing a sharp wind to whip through the room. Sunako was thankful that neither of them could feel the cold; it was mid-winter.

She sighed tiredly. "Seishin, I know you're upset, but destroying our home is not going to help."

"No? Then why did it feel so good to throw that plant through the window?"

She only shrugged. "You knew that this might happen. You're the one who wanted to give an interview - in Tokyo, no less." She was accusing him of being unreasonable, he knew, but still her voice had a soothing quality about it that eased the tension building between his shoulder blades. He stopped pacing and dropped to the floor. Sunako came forth and slipped her arms around his shoulders. Seishin relaxed almost instinctively.

"The publisher was insistent. I thought it would be okay. I assumed that he wouldn't surface. He's got colleagues in the city; surely his sense of duty didn't go up in flames with Sotoba. I expected professional obligations to keep him from making a fool of himself...or me."

"Yes, but you didn't count on him being incredibly drunk."

"No. That I did not anticipate." Seishin ran his hands angrily through his hair. _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_ "He's ruined my career."

Sunako laughed. He looked over his shoulder and arched an inquiring eyebrow at her. "Likely not. Now mysterious writer Sesto Moretti is a heartbreaking lothario with a proclivity for drugging his dates. My guess is that your books will fly off the shelves." She had a point, he had to admit. People loved drama. And Toshio had certainly given them that. "Besides, you can always change your pen name." She removed her arms and sank down behind him, her back to his. He could feel her lean into him and he leaned forward to make her more comfortable. "Maybe you ought to be Seishin Muroi for a while." Her words carried a kind of sadness that made his heart squeeze inexplicably. _What is she asking me to do?_

"Seishin Muroi died in a fire nearly seven years ago." She said nothing. The two remained like that for quite some time, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, silent tears streamed down her face. He was too immersed in his own feelings to notice.


	6. Seishin Muroi, Chapter Two

NB: I had hoped that this story would maintain a relatively light tone. I am not so sure this is possible given the remainder of the plot. At any rate, as a whole this chapter isn't as happening as the last chapter, but I suspect that's because Seishin isn't nearly as ridiculous as Toshio.

Triple points if you find the Sherlock Holmes reference.

Content warnings include some gore, a ton of dialogue, and some expletives. Sorry. I have a foul mouth. Please R & R. It makes me smile.

* * *

><p>Crimson splashes marred the tiled floor and whitewashed walls. The stains bore the telltale signs of a hellish artist who'd crafted them in a blind rage. Seishin had only seen this kind of bloodshed in his own novels…and in Sotoba. Seven years had elapsed since he'd witnessed the evidence of such violence in person, and that fact did nothing but exacerbate his unease. The wet swaths of scarlet glittered ominously underneath the harsh, fluorescent light. He closed his eyes, trying to recall how he'd come to this place and what had happened here since he arrived.<p>

Nothing.

Toshio slid into focus when he opened his eyes—the doctor's own gaze afire with what could only be called bloodlust. He grinned maniacally at the priest, looming over his form as he inched closer. Like the walls around them, Toshio too had been covered in blood. His lab coat was all but dyed scarlet. Given the knife that glinted in the doctor's right hand, Seishin concluded that Toshio was responsible for the state of the room. Seishin had been bound to what was unmistakably an operating table. _How did he find me? Where am I? Tokyo? Sotoba? _He struggled against the cloth straps that cut painfully into his wrists and ankles. Toshio only moved closer, tilting the overhead lamp to shine directly into the jinrou's face. Seishin closed his eyes against the blinding light. He kept his composure, however, knowing that just under Toshio's physician's façade was a darkness that could only be held at bay through the priest's soothing presence. Toshio was no angel; Seishin had never needed his religious training to realize that. But Toshio could be tamed, and Seishin had always known _that_.

So he spoke slowly and calmly when he addressed the man looming over him with a bloody knife. "How did I get here, Toshio? What are you doing?"

"You're a Shiki." The very words were an indictment. The jinrou didn't need Toshio to explain further. Indeed, his very form, the supernatural body that he had was a physical manifestation of his betrayal. He'd been forsaken by God sometime before he slit his wrist all those years ago. He'd been forsaken by his best friend when he chose Sunako over Toshio. And the latter had finally come for him. Seishin had always expected retribution.

"Toshio." He wanted to fight for his life, to explain his reasons for siding with the Shiki all those years ago, but the words died on his lips before he could speak them. Whatever his reasons, they'd resulted in his betrayal of his best friend. He looked again into the doctor's eyes. They conveyed equal parts sorrow and rage. Seishin's will to live crumbled beneath the weight of Toshio's stare. He hadn't had much will to live to begin with. "Just make it quick. For your old friend's sake. You cared about _him_, remember." He sighed. _I've lived on borrowed time long enough, and I'd rather be killed by Toshio than anyone else. _

Toshio's grin lengthened into a disturbing sickle-shaped smirk. He climbed up onto the table with all the agility of a much younger man. And then, he pressed himself into Seishin, sliding against him hotly and pushing his shirt up, exposing the taut, pale flesh beneath. Toshio lightly trailed the point of the knife along the captive man's chest, allowing it to come to rest at the waistband of his jeans. Seishin held his breath. Apparently the doctor had denied his request for mercy and had every intention of torturing him before he killed him. The werewolf resigned himself to the very worst, when without warning, his captor crushed rough, nicotine-laden lips against his, eliciting a surprised gasp from the bound man. In the heat of the moment, the knife pressed against Seishin's skin cut into his flesh, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake that he found strangely arousing. He moaned without wanting to do so. Toshio pulled away, leaving the both of them breathing shallow. The doctor's pupils were blown wide, but the ire that possessed him earlier was still very much present. Seishin could only be confounded by this latest bout of Toshio's behavior. Whatever modicum of composure the jinrou kept dissipated as he felt the other man's growing erection against his thigh.

"Are you trying to kill me or fuck me?" _I'll take either. _

"Both." The doctor looked hysterical as he undid Seishin's jeans, trailing the knife lower and lower down his exposed skin. Panic rushed along Seishin's veins as he realized what Toshio intended to do. He struggled against his bindings to no avail. Maniacal laughter echoed in the room, and as he realized how very wrong he was to think that Toshio could be tamed, could be claimed, Seishin let out a desperate scream that he knew would fall upon deaf ears.

He woke with a start, his blood rushing in his ears and a cold sweat making his pajamas stick to his body. His fangs cut painfully into his lips; the dark droplets of blood glittered blue against his bedding in the moonlight. "Goddamnit." Seishin scrubbed his hands through his hair. He'd had a nightmare. It hadn't been the first of its kind, but the intensity and the verisimilitude had only increased since his night with Toshio in Signa. He could still _taste_ the nicotine on his lips as he drew one shaky breath after another. Seishin shook his head, trying to dispel the dream. He sat up slowly and decided to spend the rest of the night planning the finer points of his next novel. Sleep was unlikely to come now. It was then that he caught Sunako maintaining her silent vigil across the room. She often stole into his room on the very rare nights that he slept. He'd always supposed she did this because she needed the reassurance of his physical presence. The remnants of the dream shook him still, but he pinned a soft smile to his face as he diverted his attention to her.

"You had a nightmare." She'd not meant it to sound accusatory, he knew, but he felt guilty anyway—as if simply dreaming about Toshio was treason to the home he'd built with her.

"Do you never have nightmares?" He tried to shift the focus of the conversation. He'd talk about anything, including vampire physiology, so long as he didn't have to talk about the contents of his nightmare. Sunako had developed a disturbing curiosity about the doctor lately, and Seishin found all her inquiries about their past entirely too wearying. He wanted to put it firmly behind him, to move forward, but she could be rather insistent, and he could never deny her.

"No. You know my sleep is a complete, all-encompassing sleep; it's a daily death, if you will. I cannot dream." She inclined her head. "But given your current state, I daresay that is not a loss." The corners of her lips curved down in the barest hint of a frown.

"I'm fine." He lied. The dream had rattled him more than he'd care to admit. Something about the way Toshio looked over him with a combination of menace and want left him undone. He would dream of that look for some time to come. It was a blessing that he did not need sleep very often.

"You never used to lie to me." Sunako had become increasingly distant since that night in Signa, but her proclivity to state the truth in an unnervingly neutral tone of voice remained unchanged. Seishin suspected that part of the growing rift between them had been caused by his tryst with the doctor. That he didn't regret it despite all that had transpired since was a testament to his lingering affection for the other man. _Even when he's not around, he still manages to disrupt my life. Will I never be rid of him completely? _

"I never had need until now." The words hung in the air. He let them linger, but Seishin didn't mean them. He only spoke them because he felt like he was being interrogated. She said nothing in response, and the silence stretched uncomfortably between them. Finally, he relented. "I'm sorry. I'm just so very tired of Toshio." He sighed.

"It seems your sleeping unconscious is not." He did not ask how she guessed the subject of his nightmare. She was eerily perceptive; she'd likely known that he'd been dreaming about Toshio for quite some time now. Sunako stood and approached the bed, her step as silent as ever. He shifted aside to make room. She slid in, slipping one arm around his waist as she leaned her head against his chest. The beating of his heart had slowed to its normal pace, and she sighed contentedly as she listened to its steady rhythm. _He's alive. Immortal, yes, but very much alive. _He slipped his fingers through her hair in a fatherly fashion, appreciating the irony in the gesture. _And yet he doesn't live. _"I think it would be easier for you if you'd let him back into your life."

"What, precisely, would be easier?" He was talking to fill the silence now, not really paying attention to the trajectory of the conversation, although he knew eventually they'd land upon his dysfunctional relationship with his childhood friend.

"Missing him." Sunako opted for candor. Seishin huffed.

"Yes, it is difficult to miss someone when they're not gone." He grinned almost mischievously. The young village priest had not been known for his sense of humor, but having been unfettered for years now, Seishin found that he'd developed a subtle sarcasm in his cadence. He liked this; it suited him.

Sunako laughed her tinkling laugh and tightened her arm around him. The earlier tension between them melted away as suddenly as it had appeared. "It doesn't have to be me or him, you know. You can have us both."

"Why are you so determined to befriend Toshio Ozaki? Do you suppose you'll find redemption if you make peace with the man who tried to kill you?" He _was _curious about that. The jinrou had considered the situation from every possible angle, yet he could not determine why Sunako would seek rapprochement with Toshio. It simply made no sense.

"I've been beyond redemption for a long time. But you're not."

"I don't understand."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. You've only been a jinrou for seven years. You don't realize yet that immortality is its own Hell. I've lived over a hundred years, lamenting the fact that each day is exactly like the last. I have felt love, hate, joy, and despair, but these emotions lack all gravitas when you discover the fleeting nature of all things. In another hundred years' time, even my love for you will be but a shadow of what I feel now."

An arctic chill seemed to creep into the room, but he knew that he was impervious to such ambient changes. "I don't believe that. We understand each other too well to drift apart."

"We've already drifted apart. Or have you not noticed?" He could only shake his head in denial, but he knew she was right. Over the last year in particular, walls had been erected between them. He'd not noticed until it was too late, and even then, he was helpless against them. "Seishin, you do not know what it's like to be faced with a future wherein everything is ravaged by time. Everything but you, that is. When you learn that, you will know why I was determined to die in that burning church seven years ago. Death is terrible, yes. But death also renders life meaningful. It keeps us from taking things for granted."

"But you came to Sotoba to carve out a life for yourself. You killed the villagers to survive. You could have let yourself die when you were turned. Instead, you fought for your right to exist." His confusion doubled.

She smiled sadly. "Yes, I wanted a place where Shiki could live freely. I wanted to survive. But when that dream was crushed under Ozaki's foot, I no longer had anything left to fight for. I'd committed innumerable sins all in pursuit of a utopia that never materialized. That only serves to illustrate my point. Everything is fleeting. Even dreams. And especially utopias."

"That's why…" The pieces were falling into place now, and his mind worked furiously to put his thoughts into some semblance of order.

"Yes. That's why I wanted to burn with the village. What is the point of living in a world without meaning?" He remembered their conversation in that crumbling church the night Sotoba went up in flames. Her despair was evident even then. He never thought that such despair would be permanent, preferring instead to believe that her acute feelings of hopelessness in the past had been a result of watching her family and friends die. _  
><em>

"But you came with me." Seishin wanted desperately to understand, but he did not doubt her assertion. The burden of immortality would not weigh upon him for many years yet. He was still young, after all.

"Indeed. I came with you because I loved you, and because I couldn't bear the thought of you facing your new life alone. You'd already lived thirty-two years in isolation. I wanted to spare you from any further loneliness."

"You came for my sake?"

"You would have done the same. You came to Kanemasa to die, did you not? But when you realized that I needed you, you kept yourself alive to protect me." Seishin noticed a sobering feeling of contrition work its way up his spine. Sunako spent all this time as his companion because she knew that he'd be incapable of surviving on his own. He felt a heaviness setting upon him, leaving a dull throb in his chest. He hated that she'd existed only for his sake, but even so, he could not bring himself to set her free. An existence without her was not an existence that he was willing to have. Seishin pulled her closer, hoping that the gesture would convey not only his gratitude, but also his determination to give her something to live for again. Even a Shiki's existence could have meaning. He would prove it. Sunako quietly cataloged the various emotions flitting across his face before she spoke again. She knew in the way that she simply _knew_ things that he would spend the rest of their life demonstrating to her that immortality need not be a curse. _I've failed again, haven't I? He is determined to sacrifice his own happiness for mine, to live for me instead of himself_. "There is no need for guilt. Consider us even." He would feel guilty anyway, of that she was certain.

"What does all of this have to do with Toshio, though?" He asked softly. "I am as immortal as you. If your feelings are ephemeral, so too are mine. My love for him will diminish, and eventually he will die. I will move on. With you."

She would have laughed if she didn't know that he was being serious. "No, not you. You have a lingering respect for life, and an even more abiding love for Toshio Ozaki. You love him even though he tried to kill you." He did not contradict her, so she continued. "I'm sure that eventually, your feelings will be desensitized by the passing of time, but I doubt very seriously that you will ever be able to shed your humanity fully. I've seen it before. Chizuru was the same."

"You don't know that. Even I can't predict how the world will change me."

"Perhaps, but I can venture a guess. After all, you do not kill when you hunt." Seishin inhaled sharply. He'd never hid the fact that he only took a small amount of blood from each of his victims and then hypnotized them into forgetting him, but that she'd drawn such deeply personal conclusions from his actions left him uneasy. Sunako studied him again. He remained silent, but he certainly seemed to be in a great deal of distress. His green eyes glazed over and his lips became a tight line. "There is no shame in it, Seishin. Ozaki _matters_ to you, very much in fact. You should reap what little happiness can be gained from this world. Regrets are particularly cruel when you have an eternity to contemplate them."

She concluded the conversation then, sure that he'd be lost in his own thoughts for the remainder of the night. After placing a kiss on his cheek, she slipped out of his arms. Seishin barely noticed. Sunako padded across the room to the door, giving him a final, momentary glance before she left. His head was bowed and a crease was forming between his brows; she could see the shadows playing across his face in the moonlight. If she were a kinder woman, she might have regretted leaving him in such a state. But she'd seen what happened to Shiki who'd not thought through the implications of their own immortality. Indeed, many of those who died in Sotoba had been wallowing in remorse for decades. Perhaps that was why they were so eager to undertake such a risky plan. Maybe they knew it would ultimately result in their deaths. At the very least, a war with humans would provide a reprieve from the monotony of their existence. A rare spark of light danced in her eyes as she thought of them. _Well, war is definitely preferable to boredom, isn't it Tatsumi? _She made her way down the hallway, past her own room and the library, finally exiting the front door and stepping out into the night. A solitary light came on in Seishin's bedroom as she turned to face the house again. "You deserve to be happy. You've denied yourself for too long." The words were barely a whisper, and they were lost on the wind before Seishin's preternatural hearing could catch them.

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><p>The jinrou spent the next morning in a bit of a daze. He'd seen Sunako to bed after she returned from hunting. Seishin had never gotten accustomed to placing her tiny body into a coffin. The sight of her child's form lying deathly still continued to disturb him even though it had been a daily ritual for years. He made his way to the library and settled himself behind his desk. Like the home in Signa, his writing space afforded a view of the hills outside. Dawn was quickly approaching, and he rather liked watching the sunrise each morning. There was something comforting in being the first to see the sun emerge from behind the hills. In Japan, however, the hills looked too much like the mountains surrounding Sotoba. This was one of the reasons he typically remained in Italy as long as possible each year. But like so much in his life, the Japanese hills seemed to have a pull on him which he could not escape, and eventually he'd yield, much like a sailor snared by a siren's song. <em>Maybe Toshio was right. Maybe I'd have been a caged bird anywhere.<em>

The doctor had been on his mind quite a lot lately. He would have liked to blame that fact on their night together those many months ago, or on his increasingly frustrating conversations with Sunako wherein his own happiness was always correlated with Toshio. But the other man's imposition on his thoughts was as a result of Toshio's own machinations. He had once again weaseled his way into the jinrou's life. He'd bought Seishin's villa in Signa. Why he had decided to move to Italy despite having a flourishing career at a leading hospital in Tokyo, Seishin couldn't guess at the time. He'd simply treated the transaction like any other real estate deal and asked his lawyer broker the contract. He'd assumed that the physician was looking for novel ways to torture him, but then he'd received the final paperwork on the villa's sale. A small envelope arrived with the payment. Seishin had known before opening it that he'd find Toshio's untidy scrawl within. He opened it anyway:

_Seishin,_

_I suspect you'll think that my buying your house is my way of stalking you or trying to claim you again. I guess I haven't given you much reason to think otherwise. I'm sorry for that. I wish I could restore your faith in me._

_You should know that I bought this villa because it reminded me of you, and because I don't want to be too far away for you to find me. You probably won't believe that either, so I'll admit that I also got into a bit of trouble at work involving a busty resident and a sexual harassment claim. It wasn't my fault, but I figured it might be a good time to move anyway. The patients in Italy are much nicer and all my new colleagues are entirely too unattractive to lead to any trouble. And the wine is better. Much better._

_I miss you._

_-Toshio_

_PS: Why didn't you tell me about the pool table? _

Seishin's heart had clenched when he read the note, particularly the bit about Toshio's desire to remain within reach. He'd never expected the other man to do anything like this. The doctor had always been reckless, rushing headlong into a course of action before thinking it through. But it seemed that had checked all those impulses for Seishin's sake, just this once. Indeed, Toshio could have easily traced him back to his home in Japan through the paperwork associated with the sale of the house in Signa. But he'd not done so. He'd given Seishin the opportunity to make a move…or not to make a move. The jinrou chose the latter option.

That was two months ago, and Toshio had been true to his word. He'd not contacted the jinrou at all except through his lawyer, although he did not change Seishin's old phone number and included it on every piece of correspondence that the jinrou received. It was clear that Toshio _did _want to be found, and given the fallout from his conversation with Sunako last night, Seishin wanted to find him. But he did not seek him for reasons of reconciliation. At least not yet. He had a litany of questions he wanted to ask Toshio, including why the doctor thought it would be smart to jeopardize the werewolf's career. A genuine smile tugged at his lips as he thought of how Toshio's disjointed baritone had floated through his headphones during his interview with TPR. _That idiot. _He'd forgiven the other man for his antics not long after the mishap, particularly after Sunako's prediction came to pass. His drunken outburst had made Seishin a literary sensation. _Maybe I ought to thank him. _He laughed outright then, realizing that he'd been missing his friend more than usual lately. _Would it be so bad to say hello? _He picked up the phone and dialed the number in one swift motion, making certain that he did not allow himself time to change his mind. It was his turn to act solely upon impulse.

"Dr. Toshio Ozaki speaking." Toshio answered in surprisingly good Italian. It was not nearly as fluent as Seishin's, of course, but still quite impressive for only a few months' immersion. He sounded like he'd just been roused from sleep. That's when Seishin realized the seven hour time difference between Japan and Italy. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Shit_. "Seishin?"

He thought briefly about disconnecting the line, but the hint of hopefulness in the other man's tone kept him from doing so. He found it difficult to disappoint the doctor, even now. "I'm sorry. I'd forgotten about the time difference."

"No worries. I wouldn't expect a jinrou to be mindful of a mere mortal's sleep schedule anyway." Seishin chuckled at that, but not quite loudly enough for the other man to hear. Toshio could be so very charming when he wanted to be, but the werewolf had no intention of divulging that information to him.

"Toshio."

"Yes."

"What's this about you being sued for sexual harassment?" It was the first thing that came to mind. He couldn't just ask about Sotoba without warning, after all. Such questions require a set up. He'd written enough dialogue to know that.

The doctor groaned exasperatedly and then sighed in resignation as though he'd spent the last several months of his life answering this very question over and over again. "I swear she took advantage of me while I was drunk. No one believes me when I tell them that."

"I wonder why…"

"You know, sarcasm is unbecoming of you. I've been traumatized. Can you at least _try_ to be sympathetic?"

"You didn't sound particularly traumatized when you called the radio station during my interview."

Toshio's breath caught at that, but he maintained his genial tone nevertheless. "Touché. Did you call me to bicker?" Then the doctor's voice softened into something more apologetic. "I'd deserve no less."

Seishin had not called simply to cast blame, so he replied in as mollifying a manner as possible. "Just the opposite, in fact. I've been on the international best seller list for the past eight months straight."

"You're welcome. Be sure to send me my share of the royalties." They both laughed at that, but the laughter eventually died out and an inordinately uncomfortable silence took its place.

"Hey Toshio?"

"Yes." The jinrou sounded sorrowful, Toshio realized, and he wondered what had finally driven the other man to pick up the phone. He knew he'd not like it, whatever it was. Seishin's tone was no longer the one he adopted for casual conversation. They would undoubtedly move on to weightier matters. Tension crept between the doctor's shoulder blades, but he did not dare disarm the situation with an inappropriate joke or abrupt change of topic. _I can be your crutch too. I'll prove it. _

"Would you have done to me what you did to Kyouko if you'd caught me back then?"

"Seishin," He paused and closed his eyes. _Yes. I would have. But you know that. What is it you really want to know?_ "That's a very long conversation." _And you will hate me when it's over. _

"I have time….I have nothing but time."

"Okay. Just let me find my cigarettes."


	7. Seishin Muroi, Chapter Three

NB: I've been away. I'd like to tell you that it's because I was out saving the world, but honestly, I've been dragging my feet. I'm sorry. I needed some time to think carefully about how to proceed. I hope I don't disappoint.

Hey guys, I think this chapter is funny. Well, parts of it are. I hope you get a giggle out of it. Do remember that all previous content warnings apply.

Oh, and I don't own Shiki.

It would be awesome if you'd tell me what you think of this story. Reviews are essential to a writer's process, even when said reviews are more critical than congratulatory. Honestly, I feel more motivated to write when people care enough to comment in a review or PM.

Also, thanks to Elvent for all the amazing conversations. Readers like you are why I write stories at all.

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><p>Seishin shifted uncomfortably in his chair and readjusted the phone as he listened to the other man stumble around in search for cigarettes. Toshio cursed softly as he tripped over something. Seishin wondered briefly if the doctor was sleeping in the jinrou's old bed, and if so, how alluring he must look half-asleep and tangled in those particular sheets. He'd just started to smile at the thought of Toshio's tanned limbs sprawled out over the white bedding, but then he caught himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and forced a scowl in compensation. <em>This is pathetic. It's been over a year!<em>

Toshio took up the receiver and Seishin heard the flick of a lighter followed by a grateful inhalation of smoke. As much as he'd have liked to, he couldn't help himself from grinning at the irony. "That's a dangerous habit, you know. Particularly for a doctor."

"So is having sex with a werewolf, but if my memory serves, you had very few complaints that night." The doctor chuckled in that affable way of his. He suspected he shouldn't be so flip given Seishin's reasons for calling, but Toshio would forever be Toshio. And Seishin certainly knew that. This much was evident from the soft laughter issuing from the jinrou's end of the line. The brunette smiled more broadly and continued teasing. "I'm pretty sure you were begging at one point. But I'm having trouble remembering. What was it that you wanted?"

Seishin sighed melodramatically. It was amazing, really—how they could resume their friendship as if all bad blood between them had been washed away, as though he'd not spent last night thrashing around on account of his nightmares about the other man. "Okay, you win. But you caught me unawares. I wasn't expecting you to be so—"

"Gentle?"

"Well, I was going to say 'measured'." The ease of their interaction dissipated as quickly as it had arrived, and a mild tension settled on the pair as each worked out how to begin a conversation that had been on hold for many, many years.

"You're a writer. You're prone to euphemism." Toshio took another drag from his cigarette. "I was horrible to you. Don't let me forget that. Hell, even my apologies seem trite."

Seishin exhaled the breath he'd forgotten he was holding. "Toshio—"

"You're about to give me an out. Don't. You've justified enough of my behavior. Let me finish. If you never talk to me again, I want to be sure that I get this right." He waited.

"What, exactly, do you want to get right?"

"How I felt about that night…how I feel now."

The werewolf started. This was supposed to be a conversation about the motivating factors precipitating Toshio's obsessive persecution of Shiki in Sotoba. His feelings for Seishin were only tangentially related to the matter at issue. In fact, he wasn't certain that he wanted to hear what the doctor had to say on that front. Their sordid history was ample proof that Toshio was only interested in possessing and using his former friend as a kind of consolation when life had proved disappointing or grim. But having always been the selfless sort, the jinrou merely closed his eyes and settled himself more comfortably in his chair. "How do you feel, Toshio?" He sounded rather like a talk show psychiatrist as he posed the question, but the concern in his tone was genuine.

"Awful. I feel awful." And then words spilled forth as though a dam had been un-stopped somewhere. "I shouldn't have come to the church drunk all those years ago, and even after I showed up, I should have listened to you when you asked me to stop."

"I have no regrets about that night—" Seishin replied automatically. He'd cultivated a habit of easing others' minds, after all. But a moment's reflection revealed to him that this was in fact true. He didn't regret his first sexual experience with Toshio. He only regretted how things played out afterwards.

"Seishin, please. Please. Just let me finish." A rare desperation underscored the plea. If Seishin were honest with himself, he would admit to being flattered. That he could elicit such a strong reaction suggested that he _mattered_ to Toshio. The priest was certainly not naïve enough to revise his bad opinion of happy endings, but he considered the possibility that he'd been too quick to dismiss the other's feelings as those stemming from possessiveness alone. Maybe he didn't know Toshio as well as he imagined. Or maybe Toshio had changed.

"Okay. I'm listening."

"I was wrong for hunting you down in Signa, and for not staying away when you asked me to. I'd like to claim remorse for that, but honestly, I can't. I'm glad we had that night. My only regret is that I didn't tell you exactly why I came looking for you. I gave you platitudes when you needed me to be sincere, to be vulnerable." Toshio paused to take another drag from his cigarette. Seishin stole the opportunity to speak.

"You did say that you didn't want to be without me. I suspected that meant you were lonely. Well, that and you thought you were invited."

"No, that's not right. I mean yes, I was."

"Toshio, even I can't piece together what the hell you mean by that, and I write dialogue for a living."

"Sorry. I _was _lonely. Incredibly so, but not in the way you'd expect. I could have found romance anywhere. Sex, of course, was never a problem. There were women and men queued up around the block who wanted to try their hand at saving the brilliant but broken Dr. Ozaki."

An sharp and unexpected irritation suddenly cut into Seishin, prompting him to drum his fingers impatiently. He noted the sensation with surprise and increasing agitation. _Am I getting jealous? How absurd. _"As expected. You never had trouble finding lovers." He inwardly congratulated himself on masking his feelings so well. His voice was completely neutral, and that was precisely the point. It wouldn't do to betray himself so readily.

A laugh from Toshio told him that he'd not been sufficiently neutral. "You're infinitely more attractive when you're jealous." Seishin scowled again. "But that's neither here nor there. No matter who I spent my time with, or what new and dangerous distractions I contrived for myself, my mind always lingered on the past, and most especially on you. I agonized over my mistakes and about what I could have done differently. Would Sotoba be there still if I didn't pursue the Shiki so stubbornly? Would we still be friends if I followed you to Kanemasa? Could I have changed the outcome for the village? For us? I wondered how you would react to my musings. Would you be forgiving? Or suspicious? I wondered where you were. Hell, I even wondered how your next book was coming along, and you know I hate everything you write."

"I _didn_'_t_ know, but thank you for your honesty. I'd be offended, but if I sacrificed my prose on the altar of fanservice for every village idiot, or village doctor in this case, I'd never sleep at night. Must I spell out everything? Happy endings are trite and contrived. They demolish plot! I expect my readers to be more thoughtful and intelligent than hormonal teenagers lusting after sparkly vampires, but perhaps my faith is misplaced."

"Listen, could tragically misunderstood author Sesto Moretti please return the phone to painfully repressed priest Seishin Muroi? Exasperated physician Toshio Ozaki would appreciate it if Signor Moretti would refrain from derailing this conversation." Seishin merely huffed in displeasure, so Toshio offered a consolation to the writer's now-wounded ego. "All your books are beautifully written and immaculately executed. Really. They're just so depressing. And while I appreciate your technical skill, I can't really like them because I know that I contributed to your bleak view of the world wherein happy endings are impossible." He heard no response from the other end. "I'd love them if I didn't know they were manifestations of the heartache that I caused," he added hastily.

"You think of yourself as my inordinately twisted and very fucked up muse? How presumptuous." The words were sharp, but the cadence that carried them had softened.

Toshio could _hear_ the smirk that the tragically misunderstood writer was no doubt wearing, and he found himself wanting desperately to press his own lips against it. Several months ago, he'd have tried to subsume such thoughts under work or alcohol, or sex even. Now these measures seemed unnecessary. There was nothing to be gained from denying how much Seishin trully meant to him. Honestly, he was even thankful that the conversation had been momentarily hijacked. The fact that Seishin would actually tease him in such a manner strengthened his resolve. It evidenced that there was something meaningful still lingering between them, that what bound them was not limited to a shared experience of tragedy. Whatever it was, it transcended the taint of Sotoba. And he intended to salvage it if he could. "I'm a doctor. My diagnosis is based on empirical evidence."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and the evidence suggests that you're seriously fucked up as a result of having a seriously fucked up muse. It's like the demonic inversion of writer's block. Like writer's monsoon. A monsoon that floods your house and ruins your upholstery."

"Your use of metaphor is atrocious. Writer's monsoon? Is that an official diagnosis, doctor?"

"Yes. Now can I continue? I swear when I'm finished, I'll listen to every last one of your dull diatribes about writing."

"Fine."

"Anyway, it's taken me this long to figure it out, but I would not have done anything differently, as much as I'd like to pretend otherwise." Seishin merely nodded to himself; he'd known for some time that he could not expect Toshio to be anyone other than Toshio. He'd not called for the doctor's verbal apologia. He'd called to determine if the contents of his nightmares were based in reality or if they were precipitated by his own irrational fears. But he'd promised to let Toshio finish without interruption, so he remained still. "I want to redeem myself, but I can't. You see, when the villagers started dying, the only thing I could think about was how I'd been a complete disappointment. I came back from the city and agreed to take responsibility for their very lives. Even if I was fighting an epidemic, I would have been ruthless in my methods. But when I learned that there were individuals responsible for my friends' deaths, the struggle took on a greater urgency. Diseases simply exist. The Shiki _wanted_ to destroy my village. I felt like they'd declared war on Sotoba. I fought back. I didn't realize then that my fighting back would turn the villagers into monsters and the monsters into victims. I should have considered such consequences before I took action. I didn't. But the real horror is that I wouldn't have been so thoughtful if I had another go at the whole thing. I won't pretend to be anything more than I am. I'm the monster here."

Toshio was breathing heavily now, inhaling smoke at quick intervals. Seishin heard the doctor rapping against his nightstand nervously, and then he realized the reason for the lull in conversation. The physician was waiting for absolution. "I'm in no position to judge you. I sided with the Shiki."

"No, you didn't choose sides. Not initially, anyway. You went to Kanemasa to die. You said as much in Signa. After turning, it only made sense that you would go over to the Shiki. Besides, I think you found something to love in Sunako. Maybe she'd been a better friend to you than all of Sotoba. You were our servant, after all. We unhesitatingly expected you to meet our needs without once inquiring after yours." He laughed sadly. "Some of us still treat you like that."

"Toshio—"

Seishin was interrupted yet again. Toshio knew that if he didn't come clean now, he would never again endeavor to do so. Having disclosed as much already, he decided it would be best to continue. "So, the answer to your question is yes. Yes, I would have done to you what I did to Kyouko. I wish it weren't so, but it is." Silence stretched uncomfortably between them. Confessing this might mean that Seishin would reject him completely, he knew, but he was certain that anything worth saving would have to be built anew. The time for dissembling and manipulation had long passed. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable dismissal.

"I had a feeling that would be the case."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. So am I."

Toshio laughed outright. "What could possibly warrant your apology?"

"Many things." The jinrou rubbed his temples. He'd hoped that hearing Toshio confirm that he'd have tortured and killed Seishin would be enough to justify his unwillingness to reconcile. He did not expect the other man to be so forthcoming and so brutally honest about other things, particularly his own feelings. In fairness, the priest could only respond in kind. Seishin was nothing if not charitable. "I'm sorry I left for Kanemasa without saying goodbye. I even walked past the clinic that day. I suppose I was angry after finding you with Kyouko like that, but I think I felt guilty too. I couldn't bear to see the accusation in your eyes. You were my only friend. Having lost that, I lost everything that mattered. I had nothing to live for."

"You didn't lose me, you know, not even after you walked out of the operating room that day. I'd always known that you'd find my methods horrifying, but I thought everything would be okay if we could save the village together - that I would convince you I was right if I succeeded. Before Chizuru bit me, I called the temple. When I learned you weren't there, Chizuru explained that you'd gone to see Sunako. I knew then that you'd gone to die."

"I may have disagreed with you on principle, but I still betrayed you."

"Your sins pale in comparison to mine."

"What would you know about the weighing of sins?" Seishin asked idly. The conversation had drawn to a close, but he found that he didn't want to get off the phone just then. One more thing had yet to be discussed.

A devilish smirk worked its way across the doctor's lips. "Oh, once you commit enough of them, you get a feel for these things. For example, I've sinned in ways that would make a priest blush."

And indeed the priest was blushing, but only for the most fleeting of moments. "About that…."

"Yes, let's talk about that." Toshio's regained his former self-assuredness. Seishin preferred this pompous Toshio to the defeated one, even if the physician's current confidence was not much more than practiced posturing.

"I had a dream about you last night."

"Oh?" His voice curled upwards in delight. The conversation was drifting to more pleasurable topics, and instant relief washed over the brunette.

"Not that kind of dream. It was more like a nightmare."

And that's when Toshio's heart fell to his feet, bringing along with it all his hopes of rapproachement. "I can only guess at the contents. I suspect you felt a lot like Kyouko did all those years ago." A thousand regrets rushed upon the doctor as he leaned his head against the wall. He'd been standing for the better part of the call, but now his legs had become unsteady. He sank down on the bed, cradling his head in his free hand, and he closed his eyes, knowing exactly what would come next. Images of Kyouko's broken and tortured body inundated his mind's eye. The feeling of the stake sinking into her heart seized the muscles in his forearm, causing them to tremble uncontrollably. He could still remember the heft of the hammer and the sound it made when he brought it down. Those memories had been keeping him from sleeping soundly for years. And if that didn't steal the air from his lungs, the images that followed certainly did. Instead of Kyouko's perfectly tanned skin, the form before him took on a luminescent paleness. The scarlet splashes of blood were even more striking against this body, and they seemed more _wrong_ somehow. This was the body of a priest after all, a pure body which now lay defiled by mad violence. When he imagined Seishin's fairy-green eyes open and unseeing, and devoid of all life, he felt a keen sting behind his eyelids that he'd not felt since childhood. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he realized the full extent of damage he'd wrought. He'd terrified the most unassuming and selfless person he'd ever known. Seishin's years of generosity and kindness had been repaid with sleepless nights and useless apologies, and while he was no stranger to nightmares himself, he'd always felt like they were a small price to pay in remuneration for his crimes. Seishin had committed no such crimes. _I'm so very, very sorry Seishin. I can't fix this. _

"You frighten me sometimes." The blonde barely whispered, and Toshio would not have heard had he not been waiting to be summarily condemned.

A strangled gasp escaped his throat. He would have bit it back, but there were no fig leaves left to him now. If anything, Seishin _should_ know that Toshio was repentant, at least in terms of how he'd treated his former friend. He should know that Toshio neither deserved nor expected his trust. "I frighten myself."

"I didn't intend to hurt you. I just wanted to be honest." The jinrou was staggered by his friend's reaction, but he did his best to mitigate matters. Hearing Toshio like this made him inexplicably uncomfortable. He longed only to wrap his arms around the other man and kiss away his sadness. He ached to be close to Toshio.

"I know. You're incapable of anything underhanded or manipulative."

Seishin offered comfort as best as he could: "How quickly you forget. I doused you, remember?"

Toshio's mood brightened considerably. "Yes. You did. You bastard." He spoke like he'd just realized that he should be angry about being poisoned. It was refreshing to have something with which he could levy a charge against the werewolf, if only as a joke.

"You deserved it."

"I did not. We might have had this conversation over a year ago if you hadn't decided that you knew exactly how I felt and what I wanted and how best to save poor little Dr. Ozaki's soul."

"Your soul is beyond my professional capabilities, I'm afraid." Toshio decided that sarcasm _was_ becoming of his old friend. He could again visualize the smirk that was doubtless alighting the blonde's lips - a subtle turn up at the left corner of his mouth. He knew it from memory, and he much preferred this image of Seishin to the ones he'd conjured only moments ago.

"Right. Because apostate priests have the market cornered on salvation."

The pair fell into another round of soft laughter, and again Seishin was bewildered by how quickly they resumed their old banter despite laying bare their darkest thoughts. He was still wary of too-easy reconciliations and hackneyed happy endings, but for the first time in a very long time, he truly felt the emptiness that Toshio's absence had caused. He suspected that this sentiment would change upon spending any considerable length of time with the other man, but for now, the anxienty melted away, leaving a feeling of contentment in its stead. _Sunako was right all along. __I didn't notice how incredibly lonely I've been._

"Hey, Seishin. Would you come visit?" At that suggestion, Seishin promptly decided that his assessment of Toshio had been premature. Apparently, the doctor was incapable of reform. He was simply trying to bed him again, and while the werewolf thought the idea rather appealing, he did not want to initiate an infinite regression wherein he and Toshio fell into a destructive cycle of sex and bickering. "I know what you're thinking, and before you decide that this whole conversation has been nothing but an expert ploy at getting you back into my bed, I just want to make it clear that all I want is for us to keep talking to each other. Also, it would be stupid to waste time trying to find sex half a world away when I can get it around the corner. I'm not that desperate, you know." Seishin said nothing. "Look, you can sleep in the guest room, okay? I haven't changed your library. Spend all your time there if you want. Just have dinner with me from time to time. Hell, you're rich, right? Get a hotel. I'll come to you. And I won't set foot in your room."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a good man, and that means I'm selfish. You make me want to be better."

"You mean you need me."

"I told you, I'm selfish." Seishin was unsurprised. Toshio's relationship with him had always been one of need, and always unidirectional need at that. But curiously, he was not disappointed or hurt, at least not in the way he had been when Toshio expressed something similar after their tryst in Signa. Perhaps the doctor's change had caused his needs to change as well? Maybe being needed was not the same as being used? The priest could only hope this was the case, but he had no first-hand evidence from which to draw a secure conclusion, and so he trod carefully around the invitation.

"I want to say no, but since you asked so nicely, I'll think about it. I'm not making any promises."

"That's good enough. Bring Sunako too, but only if she swears not to eat me."

Seishin barked an incredulous laugh. "You just insinuated that wanting to sleep with me is indicative of desperation. You'd better hope _I_ don't eat you."

"Hmmm. I would enjoy that." The jinrou tutted in feigned disgust, but he heard Toshio laughing heartily right before he cut the line.

* * *

><p>It had taken him almost a month to accept. Sunako was soundly in favor of Seishin flying to Italy for a visit with the doctor, and indeed she was the primary reason Seishin agreed to go at all. He couldn't deny her, even now. Sunako was not, however, at all interested in joining him.<p>

"Why not come along? It might be fun to hunt in your old stomping grounds."

She smiled. He could be so obtuse sometimes. She had no doubt that the physician would prefer to have the writer all to himself, at least until their relationship was on firmer ground. But Seishin had fully convinced himself that Toshio simply wanted to begin an innocuous conversation, entirely platonic in nature. That Seishin would think the doctor capable of such innocence was a testament to his lingering affection for the man. If Toshio's craftiness didn't carry in it the potential to turn deadly, she would have found the jinrou's rose-colored version of the situation endearing. But she knew things that he had only begun to guess at. Toshio Ozaki was a monster, but he was a monster whose more terrifying proclivities could be tempered. Seishin was his tether to humanity, ironically enough. As such, Sunako had no doubt that Seishin's Toshio was a much more agreeable man than the Toshio Ozaki that murdered her friends, but even so, she had no intention of being anything more than cordial towards the man. She knew better than to reveal this to her companion, however. She was too old and too clever to be so foolish.

"Seishin, I certainly want _you_ to re-establish your relationship with Ozaki. But I don't think he and I will be friends quite yet."

"I thought you said I could have you both." It was not in Seishin's disposition to be so demanding, or indeed so selfish, but he'd seen a glimpse of the life that the three of them could share, and he seemed determined to have it, even knowing that it would require substantial effort on all their parts and that it might disintegrate anyway. This buoyed the vampire somewhat. He'd been so hopelessly forlorn in the past, existing chiefly for her sake or for the sake of the village. Ozaki had given him something to live for, something to want for himself, and while she'd never consider the doctor a humanitarian by any stretch of the imagination, she was nevertheless thankful for this inadvertent gift.

"And I'm not retracting that promise. I need time. You may have come to forgive him, but he and I don't share a history, so my trust will take much longer to earn." She was curled against his chest again, relishing the feel of his fingers slipping through her long hair.

"I won't be gone for long."

"Don't come rushing back for my sake. Live a little." Her bell-like voice seemed on the verge of laughter. Seishin pulled her closer and kissed her forehead.

"You'll be okay for two weeks?" Sunako jabbed a supernaturally sharp fingernail into his side in response. He clutched painfully at the resultant scratch. "Ouch! Okay, I get it. You're not a child, even though your actions suggest otherwise."

"And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks," She said playfully before leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"I love you, you know. This trip won't change that. Toshio can't change that." He felt like he needed to say it, although he could not articulate way.

"I didn't expect him to." Sunako slipped out of his bed and walked towards the door, pausing just long enough to steal a backwards glance at him, "And I love you too. More than you know."

* * *

><p>Seishin found his way to his old villa without difficulty. He rented a car from the airport and drove the hilly country roads that had once captured his artist's soul so thoroughly that he'd made a home amongst them. He was cognizant of the fact that he currently lived in Japan, but the trip did have the feeling of a homecoming to it—perhaps it was the clerk at the airport who'd shyly asked for an autograph as Seishin chose a rental, or way the manager of the local gas station stepped outside to greet him as he filled his tank, or perhaps it was the way the way the villagers waved to him as he drove through the center of town, or maybe it was simply because being with Toshio had always felt like home, or at least it did before Sotoba went up in flames. Whatever the case, Seishin's buoyant mood was downright infectious, and it didn't diminish until he'd parked the car in his erstwhile garage. And even then, it was being assaulted by Toshio's dog that finally wiped the smile off his face.<p>

Kuro leapt at the werewolf as soon as he'd stepped out of the car. As a result, Seishin was now pressed against the vehicle, both of his hands trying to cover as much of the dog's fur as possible so that it would calm itself and give him some space to unload. Toshio emerged from the doorway to the house. He'd clearly run the length of the villa in an attempt to hinder the little beast.

"Oh great. You gave in. I'll never be good enough for him now."

"What was I supposed to do?" Seishin inquired, confused about how one might more appropriately respond to so exuberant a greeting. "You should have him trained."

"I did have him trained. You're supposed to ignore him when he misbehaves. It doesn't work. He keeps misbehaving until you yell at him. I suppose in his crooked little canine mind, negative attention is better than no attention at all."

"I wonder where he gets it." That comment was met by a book being flung with surprising precision in the jinrou's direction. He dodged it easily, his sharp reflexes serving him as well as ever. It hit the car instead. "This is a rental, you know." He retrieved it, only to find that it was one of his novels, one from the many that he'd left in the basement. They were author's copies given to him by the publisher, and he'd expected the real estate agency to clear them out when he moved. Apparently that expectation had not been met. "I thought you hated my work."

"I'm using them as chew toys for Kuro. They keep him from destroying the furniture."

Seishin merely sighed and rolled his eyes. The pair stared at each other briefly, each a little surprised that they were in one another's company yet again. The jinrou cleared his throat. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Toshio suddenly doubled over in laughter. "Hey, what would happen if I didn't invite you in? Would you turn into mist and blow away like Dracula?"

"You read too much fiction. I would buy a plane ticket to Japan. I'd be exhausted when I got back, I suppose, but it wouldn't inconvenience me much more than that. I'm pretty resilient." Seishin replied dryly. "Idiot."

"Please come in." Toshio said smugly, and then he lingered in the doorway long enough to leer at the other man as he came through the threshold. The werewolf felt the brunette's eyes trailing over him, and he found that he rather liked being the object of the other's gaze. He was rarely ogled so unabashedly. It felt good to be wanted. He felt like he was in control, and since this was a rare phenomenon whenever he was with the doctor, he took a moment to revel in it.

Seishin marched up the stairs and to the guest room without any further invitation or prompting. There was no need for formality. He was already intimately familiar with the house. And he didn't want Toshio to entertain thoughts of them sharing the same bedroom. He unceremoniously dropped his suitcase on the bed and looked around. Admittedly, it felt strange to be a guest here. He never realized before how sparse and sterile this particular room had been. Toshio retained all the furnishings, and so Seishin's simple aesthetic obtained throughout the house, but now confronted with the clean lines and unadorned walls of the guest room he'd so meticulously designed, he felt something akin to sorrow. _M__y whole life has been one failed experiment in keeping things neat and organized._

"Seishin, do you want me to cook?" Toshio's bemused voice floated up the stairs, drawing the jinrou out of his pensiveness.

"No." He said it softly at first, more to himself than to his companion. And then, "Hell no!" He nearly ran down the steps in hopes of averting what would no doubt be a culinary disaster, only to find the other man smirking wickedly at the foot of the staircase. They made reservations at a small restaurant that had been one of Seishin's favorites. It was typically empty, and so the two were able to enjoy a meal without having the nosy villagers whispering about the handsome foreign doctor and that writer fellow that they'd not seen in over a year. They exchanged pleasantries with the chef, arguing over which wines were best suited to their menu, and Seishin once again found himself entranced by how simple everything seemed. He'd missed Signa.

He passed several days in a similarly carefree way. The picturesque village easily seduced him with its people and its breezy character. He rarely slept, so at night, he'd write. The Italian hills were as effective a muse as they'd ever been. In the mornings, he'd continue working if he felt so inclined, or he'd walk into town, greeting old acquaintances and buying more used books than he could possibly fit into his suitcase. Kuro often joined him for these excursions, delighting the village children by gamboling around with them until they were all exhausted. Once, he made his way to the small clinic that Toshio had established upon immigration to Signa. It was not unlike the Ozaki Clinic back in Japan, except that Toshio's occasional linguistic missteps in Italian lent a certain degree of humor to the place that the clinic in Sotoba could never possess. Seishin found the staff to be exceedingly knowledgeable and friendly, although they weren't an attractive lot. It seemed that Toshio was working very hard to avoid trouble. In the evenings, the two would spend a few hours together discussing all manner of things. Rarely they talked of Sotoba and of their old friends, and even less frequently, they considered their new relationship.

"You look happy here, Toshio." Seishin was reading one of his recent purchases while Kuro slept happily in his lap. They'd come home from dinner and settled in the library, enjoying the sort of quiet that grew more pleasant with each passing day. The jinrou gazed at his friend from across the room, making note of all the slight changes that time had wrought upon the older man. The brunette's hair was shot through with more grey now than before and laugh lines had formed at the corners of his mouth. Toshio even wore reading glasses - the trendy, dark-rimmed sort that would have been out-of-place in Sotoba. These things only served to enhance his appeal. Age suited the doctor. It gave him an air of distinction.

"I _am_ happy here," he replied distractedly. "No evil witches to take advantage of an incapacitated young man only to sue him for it later." Toshio was working his way through his own book, a racy novel that Seishin recommended in hopes of improving his reading proficiency in Italian. He'd been making small, frustrated noises for a quarter of an hour when finally he groaned in defeat. "I give up. Can you help? I'm having trouble translating this bit, and the clothes have just come off."

Seishin stood, dislodging a displeased Kuro who growled at him in protest. He ignored the dog and walked towards the doctor's desk, a triumphant glint playing in his eyes. Too busy relishing the fact that he'd get to expound upon the finer points of Italian grammar, he didn't realize that he'd made the fatal mistake of leaning too closely over Toshio's shoulder until it was too late. The smell of cigarette smoke and cologne flooded him, conjuring memories of the not so distant past, stirring up a longing that he'd not felt in over a year. Electricity crackled between them. No doubt Toshio felt it as well, because the doctor swallowed thickly and turned to meet his companion's eyes. Each held their breath as the air grew heavier with anticipation.

_If I'm going to be hurt again, I might as well enjoy it_, Seishin thought as he leaned in, throwing caution to the wind in a disturbingly uncharacteristic fashion and intending very much to sample the nicotine still lingering on Toshio's tongue. But their lips never met. Toshio recoiled so quickly that he nearly tumbled over the chair's arm. He stammered a half-hearted apology before standing up abruptly. Seishin couldn't help feeling wrong-footed and insecure. _Didn't he make a show of looking at me when I came in? Doesn't he stare when he thinks I'm not looking? _The jinrou sifted through the various emotions that flitted through his psyche. The biting sting of rejection was overwhelming him, and he willed himself to feel anything else. He lifted a trembling hand to his mouth, realizing that he'd just crossed a line that could not be uncrossed - a line that he'd warned Toshio not to cross, in fact. Rejection became mingled with guilt and shame. _Shit. That was so stupid. _He searched frantically for a way to disarm the situation, and when nothing materialized, he made plans to leave Italy as soon as possible. _I should have known it was too good to last. I should have realized that there are no happily ever afters, at least not for me. _Resigned to the worst, he decided to apologize before marching upstairs to pack.

"Um. I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...no, I mean I meant to, but I shouldn't have." The writer was having a great deal of trouble articulating himself. Toshio would have been supremely amused under other circumstances. "I thought that—"

"I know. You thought that I wanted you." The brunette spoke in a disturbingly matter-of-fact tone that betrayed nothing but a cool, detached observation of the events that had just transpired. He was making another diagnosis, it seemed.

"Yes." Seishin's heartbeat slowed to a dull thud. He mentally enumerated the things he needed to do to prepare for his return to Japan in the morning. Toshio was lost in thought all of the sudden, no doubt working out the least hurtful way to reject him. It never occurred to the jinrou how absurd it was to believe that the doctor's feelings had changed overnight. Toshio had been so fickle in the past, after all. This Seishin knew too well.

The physician only nodded absent-mindedly. He seemed to be having a vigorous conversation with himself, one hand stroking his chin while the other gesticulated wildly to no one in particular. He paced back and forth as his companion looked on. He then stopped mid-pace and spun around, catching Seishin completely off guard as he rushed towards him and pushed him into the wall. A hand gripped Seishin's hip, fingers digging into flesh with an urgency that left no doubt as to the brunette's _intent. _Their chests pressed together as Toshio leaned in. Apparently he had cultivated a fetish for capturing his prey like so. This was the second time Seishin found himself trapped in such a manner. The werewolf had just formed the thought when a heated whisper brushed past his ear. "I want you in the worst way. I want to kiss you until your lips are red and swollen and cracked. I want you in every position, in every room of this house, and in every house in this village. I want to watch you climax over and over again as I steal my name from your mouth with my own." But the doctor only stepped back after that, leaving the other man breathless and very aroused. One hand still rested against the jinrou's chest, but Seishin barely registered the gentle pressure. All his blood had rushed to other parts of his body. "But you are not here to satisfy my wants. You are here to remind me of what I must earn." The blonde would have been put out if he'd not received a very quick kiss in compensation. Toshio then walked backwards several paces and put his hands in his pockets as though trying to restrain them from wandering unchecked over the other man's skin. "Oh, yes. I want you. Make no mistake about that. And be wary of coming within striking distance again. Self-restraint has never been one of my strong suits."

Seishin shook his head to clear the fog that had taken hostage of his mind. While he gathered himself, Toshio stalked off towards the door, his shoulders hunched slightly and his hands still stuffed in his pockets like some disappointed child. He looked positively pathetic.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? You can't just do _that_ and leave, you know," Seishin called after him. _What just happened here? _His intellect was having trouble keeping pace with his hormones.

"I'm going to take a cold shower," the doctor growled angrily over his shoulder. It was unfortunate that he did not see the completely unguarded and beaming smile that he left on his companion's face.

The next morning found Seishin incapable of doing anything without grinning stupidly. He'd just made a cup of coffee when a freshly-showered Toshio trailed in from retrieving the mail. The doctor had taken the day off, and all the evidence suggested that he was out for revenge. His overlong hair was wet and unkempt. It dripped along his neck and down his back, and his unseasonably thin shirt was sticking to his chest, leaving just enough to the imagination to keep the smile pinned to Seishin's lips. He paused in the kitchen long enough to ask the jinrou to make another cup of coffee in a sleep-roughened voice that should have been reserved for only the most scandalous of situations. Seishin was far from frustrated by this. The fact that Toshio had checked his own possessiveness and desires for the werewolf's sake sent his mind reeling with giddy pleasure. Maybe they'd both changed. And maybe they'd changed for the better. Maybe this domestic idyll that the two had lately crafted wasn't some far-fetched fantasy after all.

His cheerfulness was short-lived.

Somewhere in the living room, Toshio dropped the mail that he'd been carrying. The werewolf's preternatural hearing caught that, but it didn't worry him until he heard the doctor's next words: "Oh God."

He rushed out of the kitchen. The brunette only held up a piece of paper in explanation. Seishin found himself staring at a very short letter written in an elegant calligraphic script he knew could only belong to Sunako. It addressed Toshio and Toshio alone:

_He will need you now, Ozaki. Don't disappoint him._

Seishin's heart stopped beating for what seemed like an eternity.


	8. Sunako Kirishiki, Chapter One

NB: Sorry for the unforgivably long wait, everyone. I was taking my PhD exams. Believe me, my fingers longed for the scratch of pen across paper. Anyway, I haven't written fiction in months, so I hope I'm not too rusty.

I passed exams, BTW. :)

Content warnings: All previous warnings apply. Herein you'll find inordinately bulky paragraphs, fail editing, a modest amount of cutesy fan service (by way of apology for the wait time), and an exceedingly long final chapter. Plus there's grown-up!Toshio and not-so-stoic!Seishin. So, if you're not into Dr. Ozaki being all responsible and Seishin being all human (well, as human as possible), you might not want to read this chapter.

FYI: I consider the last two sections as an epilogue of sorts.

Also, please know that this chapter is sad. Not all of it, but some of it certainly. And some of it is inappropriately humorous—life's a bit like that too, I guess. Or maybe I'm projecting? If you're familiar with my fiction, you'll no doubt surmise that I called the story 'Requiem' for a reason.

As always, I am deeply thankful to any and all who stop by. You make me very happy, even if I don't know you're there. And I would like very much to know what you thought of this story, so please leave a review or PM if you're so inclined. Responsive readers make better writers. Hey, Flower of the Flame, there's an homage to you in this chapter. Let me know if you can't find it.

* * *

><p><em>He will need you now, Ozaki. Don't disappoint him.<em>

"I have to go," Seishin said flatly, all trace of emotion having been banished from his voice. He stared at the ink on the paper as if it might curl upon itself and save him the heartache of whatever she'd done. That she'd done _something_, he was sure. Sunako had been unhappy of late. Inwardly he cursed himself for not catching on sooner. Wasn't she a bit _too_ forceful about his coming to visit Toshio? Hadn't she been overly forthcoming about her dissatisfaction with immortality? Didn't she seem to be looking for ways to exacerbate the growing rift between them? And unthinkingly—willfully, even—he'd dashed off to Signa with scarcely a backwards glance. In that moment, he loathed himself for wanting Toshio, for coming to Italy without Sunako, for secretly craving a future with the other man….because he was sure that there was a brief instance this morning when he imagined an endless series of sunrises shared with a disheveled doctor and a cup of coffee….and he was equally certain, at least for a fleeting moment, that he'd never want for anything else if he could have that sort of life with Toshio. _I betrayed her. I betrayed her and she knew that I would. _

The werewolf's mind flickered to the figure of a small, bedraggled girl huddled against a church altar while flames pressed in on the both of them. The fire should have scorched, but Seishin's new jinrou skin had been impervious to pain. The same could not be said about his all-too-human heart.

"_I finally gathered up the necessary resolve. I can at last throw my existence away." _

Seishin had convinced her otherwise back then; he had sworn that they could find meaning in the despair together. After all, both had been exiled from the human world. Both of them had nothing left to lose but each other. To his credit, the jinrou managed to cobble together a home. But he was too blind to see how incurably lonely the vampire had been. _How could I believe that she'd be content with just my company for all eternity? _He knew better now. Being immortal meant being alone—that's what she tried to tell him in the burning church all those years ago. And just like then, he knew he had to save her if he could, even if that meant disregarding what she wanted for herself. _Please be okay. I can't live without you. _He ignored the sinking feeling that things were a far cry from "okay" or any variant thereof.

"Toshio. I have to go," he repeated tersely, imbuing the words with more force now. His attention snapped back to the man who'd been watching him silently while he put his whirling mind into some semblance of order.

"I know," Toshio replied evenly, still eyeing Seishin as though examining a patient. "I'm coming with you." _He will need me now._

Seishin barked a sarcastic laugh and pressed his long fingers to his temple. The last several days had passed in a dreamlike daze, but a few days' easy companionship was insufficient evidence against years of Toshio's propensity to discard him upon whim. He should have known everything would come crashing down around him sooner rather than later, and he didn't want Toshio to accompany him out of misplaced obligation. Or worse—pity. "Don't trouble yourself. I'll be fine."

"I know. You're always fine." _But even you have your limits. _"I'm coming anyway." There was no room for argument. If Seishin had been paying closer attention, he'd have realized that Toshio's tone was not unlike the one he'd taken up when he resolved to eradicate Shiki from Sotoba. He might have been taken aback if he weren't in such hurry to embark. Time was short. He could ill afford to waste it bickering. _Desperate measures, then. Fine._

The next thing the doctor felt was the crush of vice-like fingers around his neck. Seishin's eyes had gone from jade to scarlet, impatience underscoring his words as he tightened his grip and growled venomously at his captive. He leaned in, bitterness dripping from every syllable. "You never learn, do you? I am not a toy that you can take up when you're bored and throw away when you've grown weary of idle entertainment. This is not a game. Sunako is gone! And you'd have me condescend to your petty whims?" _Haven't you taken enough from me? _To be fair, he felt a particularly acute guilt for that unvoiced thought and the savageness with which he passed the blame, but the maelstrom of emotions that he was barely containing precluded any possibility of apology.

Toshio didn't resist in the slightest. Instead of struggling, he calmly slid his hands around the wrist that bound him, thumbs brushing gently back and forth across the jinrou's skin. The intimacy of the gesture caused Seishin to release him, ire morphing into something akin to shame at the newly formed bruises on the doctor's throat. There was much, much more than anger reflected in those vermillion irises. Remorse was waging a losing battle with sorrow. Toshio would know. He'd developed a keen understanding of every minute aspect of Seishin's comportment—he'd been watching the priest very closely over the last several days, after all. This ferocity was but a façade. He reached forth to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his aggressor's ear, not knowing if it would prove a conciliatory or careless. Twin rubies widened slightly. "I'm not playing. Not anymore." Having always been the audacious sort, the brunette did the only thing he could.

Seishin had just enough opportunity to inhale sharply before he felt the softness of Toshio's lips against his. But for all the times that they'd kissed, this was different. The doctor's mouth was slanted against his own, true, but there was no vehemence, no pressure, no _insistence. _Undemanding and unyielding all at once, it was a take it or leave it kiss. And Seishin knew what taking it would mean. But whatever defenses he'd managed to erect in the last several moments now lay in ruin at the other's feet. So he took it, desperately throwing his hands around Toshio's back, one clenched in his t-shirt, the other threaded through still damp hair. His feelings had become a nebulous mass of fury, self-disgust, despair and helplessness, and as he wordlessly fell apart, it was the rhythmic sweep of Toshio's hands and the taste of his lips that held the world together.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried in earnest. Even as he prayed over the mangled remains of his mother, he'd maintained a stoic detachment. But now it seemed that decades of repressed emotions had broken forth as he trembled uncontrollably under the force of the sobs wracking his frame. Still he clung tightly to the other. Perhaps too tightly—as though even whilst crushed against him, he was yet too far. Toshio could do nothing to soothe him so he simply held on. Even when their kisses became shaky and Seishin could no longer stand, the doctor followed suit, both men falling into each other as they slumped to the floor. Tanned fingers wove through platinum hair as the physician laced his hands around the nape of the other's neck, realizing with startling clarity that whether golden-green or fiery crimson, Seishin's eyes were unbearable to look at when in this much pain.

He spoke softly in what he hoped was an assuaging manner. "We need to move quickly. Why don't you pack? I need to make a few calls at the clinic and book some plane tickets." Dr. Ozaki was a fighter, after all. The intervening years had hardly altered that. He had no clue what had transpired or how to ameliorate it, but he was determined to do so. How like a small child Seishin seemed then, slowly gathering himself and standing on trembling legs. The apprehension with which the blonde scanned Toshio's face for reassurance broke the doctor's heart just as surely as the conflagration of Sotoba had done so many years ago. _I swear, Kirishiki, if you've done something that I can't fix, I _will_ hunt you down and I _will _kill you. And this time, I won't fail. _He squeezed the jinrou's hand and nodded towards the stairs. "Go. We'll leave within the hour."

Toshio watched the ex-priest mount the stairs with a bowed head and heavy tread, and he inwardly thanked a nonexistent God that the other man was too preoccupied to inquire precisely how he could be ready to leave for an indeterminate length of time at a moment's notice. The truth was that the doctor hoped that Seishin's stay would end in an invitation to Japan and a happily ever after, or at least a happ_ier_ ever after filled with good wine and great sex. The current circumstances were less than ideal, no doubt, but he'd made entirely too much progress to give up now. And hadn't Sunako said that Seishin would need Toshio? _She's too methodical to say such things without warrant. _

Several hours later, the two were partway through a first class flight to Narita (Toshio had no desire to see an emotionally-frayed werewolf confronted by a coach cabin full of fussy infants). Those hours had passed in a blur of activity as he'd systematically made arrangements for his extended absence at the clinic, stuffed an anesthetized Kuro into a travel crate, coaxed Seishin out of a disaffected stupor long enough to pack, drove the rental car back to the airport, and secured their transportation to the jinrou's remote home which was hours outside Tokyo. He was exhausted. But even so, he dared not sleep. His companion had spoken barely a word since leaving Signa, moving under the doctor's directive without an ounce of protest. Seishin had always been accommodating, yes, but seeing him so listless was absolutely terrifying. He seemed little more than a specter, destined to disappear if Toshio should avert his attention. Maybe that's why Toshio had taken hold of Seishin's hand the instant the two were seated. The jinrou was _here—_only in part, to be sure, but still present, still _with _him. Not surprisingly, the blonde complied, although his ramrod posture might suggest that he was uncomfortable with such a public display of affection. The physician traced circles on the back of a pale hand with a thumb. An unhurried swirl of skin against skin seemed to mollify the other in much the same manner as before. If he were in a more jovial mood, he might have laughed at the irony of being able to tame a werewolf when he'd been completely incapable of inculcating any obedience in his dog. Seishin had at last fallen asleep against Toshio's shoulder, his silvery hair spilling across the doctor's jacket and glowing in the sparsely lit cabin like a dimmed halo. The beginnings of dark under-eye circles were just forming on porcelain skin. It was all the brunette could do not to kiss them away. Instead, he tried to piece together the available evidence in hopes of figuring out what would await them in Japan.

Seishin's behavior raised the first alarm. While the priest had always been the more sentimental of the two men, Toshio had never known him to be so thoroughly disconsolate. Whatever Sunako had done, it was drastic. Anything less than life-changing would be met with polite officiousness on the jinrou's end. As such, the physician was certain that the situation was dire.

_Of course you've never seen him like this, you idiot. He's never been like this. Not really. Self-sacrifice takes a great deal of strength. _

As if on cue, his conscience (and he was still unsure if that's indeed what it was) supplied the other half of the conversation.

_You thought he was weak because he always let you have your way._

Well, that was certainly true. He'd have huffed dramatically and pinched the bridge of his nose if he weren't fearful of waking the other man. Maybe he'd been as foolish as the other villagers, seeing in his companion only what he wanted to see: a beautiful and deferential servant whose generosity had been inaccurately perceived as fragility.

_Maybe what you really wanted was to make him dependent on you. _

Maybe. Not like this. Never like this. He'd wanted to possess Seishin. _Anyone_ would want to possess Seishin, he reckoned. But he'd never wanted to break him. Well, not emotionally anyway…

_Can we get back to the matter at hand?_

He corralled stray thoughts that ranged from inappropriate to downright shameless. Yes. Right. Sunako. Given the jinrou's uncharacteristically frantic frame of mind, Toshio surmised that he knew more than he let on. And he thought that Sunako was gone, the balance of probability was that he was right. And then, there was the matter of that cryptic note. Clearly, the vampire minx had run off somewhere.

_That's not necessarily a bad thing, is it? Now he's all yours._

Toshio considered that for a moment. Certainly it would make his life much easier if Sunako never returned. Indeed, he'd fantasized often about this very eventuality. But in his fantasies, Seishin looked happier. Content. _Alive._ The man beside him was but a shade of the one in his dreams. This could never do. So the physician would have his tragically misunderstood writer back, even if he was forced to share. And then, he'd contrive untold tortures for that little witch for putting them through this Hell. A smug smirk worked its way across his lips and he leaned back, assured by his own tenacity and cleverness.

_You're right of course. We have to find her and bring her back. For his sake. After that, everything will be fine._

He'd begun to wonder if it was troublesome that he thought of himself as "we" when the stewardess tapped him lightly on his arm just as he was beginning to drift off. _How do airline hostesses always know when to do that?_ He creaked open a bloodshot eye and tried to offer his most winning smile.

The stewardess—Nicole—flashed a practiced simper around painted lips and nodded conspiratorially towards the sleeping man.

"Is that your boyfriend? He's cute."

Toshio chuckled softly. "More like my prisoner." _If you only knew, Nicole. That cutie_ _could snap your neck. I have the bruises to prove it. _He absentmindedly fingered the shirt collar and tie that hid said bruises.

"He doesn't seem to mind," she countered. The doctor glanced again at his friend. The blonde would have been the very picture of peacefulness if not for the tiny crease between his brows. It was a tell only Toshio would notice, so he couldn't blame the stewardess for getting the wrong idea. And admittedly, Seishin really was quite adorable when he wasn't conscious (and fuming mad). Alabaster skin and unnaturally long eyelashes gave him an almost ethereal, innocent appearance. Toshio almost felt a pang of shame for wanting to defile him. Almost.

"He will when he wakes up."

"Well, can I get you anything for the ensuing struggle, then?" she asked with a wink.

_A large scotch. Neat. And three packs of cigarettes. _"Yes, please. Coffee. Black." He had no doubt it would be an inordinately long night.

* * *

><p>It would indeed prove to be an inordinately long night, but Toshio had never wanted so desperately to be wrong. For all his bravado about bringing Sunako back and confronting her about abandoning Seishin, he never once stopped to consider what to do if he couldn't deliver. He ought to have guessed, given how disquieting his friend's behavior had been. But because of obdurate ignorance or intentional avoidance, he failed to form a contingency plan for such an event. <em>Stupid, stupid, stupid. I even told myself that he was unusually distraught.<em>

Yes, he realized, he should not have been so sanguine about his ability to set things right, particularly when his track record with Seishin tended in the opposite direction. What awaited them in Japan was no less than the worst case scenario. Sunako had done the unthinkable, or so to the evidence would suggest.

They'd come back to an empty home. All the lights burned brightly, giving the place a sort of eerie abandoned feel that made the hairs on Toshio's neck stand on end. The sleek, modern décor only added to the desertedness. Everything was in its proper place, he guessed. It was spotless. Even the potted orchids on the coffee table bloomed richly, as though they'd only recently been watered. Seishin had fingered a pale white petal thoughtfully before sinking into the sofa, his head cradled in his hands. Finally, he turned his head to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked to the forest beyond. Night had fallen, but he seemed not to notice. A still-drowsy Kuro curled up on the couch next to the jinrou in a futile attempt to offer comfort.

"She's not here," the writer said after what seemed like an eternity. "I would hear her if she were."

"Maybe she's out hunting," Toshio offered, knowing full well that it was an ineffectual platitude. Sunako was not out hunting. Even he could tell as much from the stillness of the air in the house.

"The windows are locked," the jinrou nodded towards them. "She always left them unlocked when she hunted." His voice broke at that. _Past tense_, Toshio thought. _He's speaking about her in the past tense. _The doctor dropped his bags next to the sofa and made for the hallway that doubtless led to the bedrooms. "Where are you going?"

"To look for anything that might help us find her." He turned away from Seishin before he could see the sad, wry smile that passed across the werewolf's lips. Toshio had no desire to see Seishin concede. He had no desire to see Seishin undone. And if he had to play this farce out to its end, he would. So he ignored the tiny, tiny voice in the recesses of his mind that told him what his companion had already confirmed: _She's dead._

His pantomime was short-lived. The last bedroom on the far right was quite obviously Sunako's. Instead of the starkness of black and white, sharp angles, and polished surfaces that marked the rest of the home, the walls were deep blue in color, paper stars suspended from silver threads attached to the ceiling. Delicate gauze covered the windows and a lacy coverlet adorned the overstuffed bed. Toshio half expected to find stuffed animals, but there were none. There was no coffin either, at least not within eyesight. _ I guess even vampires need privacy from time to time. _It was, decidedly, the room of a young girl. He was pondering how a woman who'd lived over a hundred years could tolerate such accommodations when he heard Seishin's approach.

"She hated this room," the jinrou said by way of explanation.

"But she stayed in it."

"Yes. I made those stars for her soon after we left Sotoba. In fact, I designed this whole room myself."

Toshio pulled a sour face that Seishin couldn't see. "It's awful."

Incredibly, the werewolf laughed at that. It was the faintest huff, and Toshio would have missed it were it not that he was paying careful attention to the other man. But it was certainly a laugh, and for that, he was grateful. "Well, that was before I realized how old she really was. I think she kept it like this because she didn't want to hurt my feelings."

He shuffled past Toshio and sank down on the bed, once again covering his face with long fingers as though he could undo what she'd done if he didn't have to take in the empty room and the unrumpled bed. Apparently Seishin's capacity for conversation had been exhausted and he had now reverted to the insensate, harrowed man that he'd been for the better part of the day.

The doctor merely regarded the stars. They were rather beautiful, he noted dispassionately. He had no doubt that Seishin truly thought of the vampire as a daughter of sorts. The priest was trained in the art of nurturing lost souls, after all. It must have been quite a shock when Sunako revealed to him her true age. He'd have liked to be part of that conversation.

Toshio alighted upon a paper star that was quite differently from the others—having four corners instead of five points. It hung low in the center of the room. He strode forward and plucked it from the string, realizing at once what it was before he turned it over to see Seishin's name printed neatly on the folded-over cardstock.

"It's a note." Minutes passed before he received a reply.

"You can read it if you want. I can imagine what it says."

In retrospect, Toshio should have known the contents too. _He will need you know, Ozaki. _What had that been if not a passing of the torch, a goodbye? He opened it anyway, brown eyes scanning the calligraphic script that seemed all too familiar by now.

_My Seishin, my Love, my Everything:_

_Surely you can guess this letter's occasion. I suspect my actions have hurt you very deeply. For that I am truly sorry. _

_Even you cannot save me now. And you could not have saved me had you been here. Did I not say that regrets are particularly cruel when you have a lifetime to contemplate them? I no longer wish to live with mine. I am aware that I may have contributed to yours, but I haven't your selflessness…or your strength. I hope you'll forgive me one day._

_It's fitting that a creature belonging to the night must seek out the day to secure freedom. It is fitting too that this freedom comes at the price of life. It is a price I hope you'll never pay, but one you'll understand in due course. _

_Do not mourn me. Only live so that I might live in your memory._

_-Your Sunako_

Toshio supposed that the proper reaction to such a letter would be anguish, or profound bitterness. He should have wondered what Sunako's regrets had been if they'd been weighty enough to occasion her suicide. Perhaps it would have been appropriate to take a moment and admire the fact that she'd brought the two of them together before executing her plans. Hell, even celebration at not having to share Seishin would have been understandable given the circumstances. But when he looked at the crumpled, wounded form of his best friend, he felt only incendiary rage. Instead of screaming violently at a non-existent Sunako, he spoke to Seishin in the most allaying manner possible.

"You knew that she'd kill herself?" he asked slowly, deliberately, wary of sending Seishin careening off the cliff of stability.

"I suspected as much when we got her letter in Signa." He looked up at the doctor with bloodshot eyes, sallow skin giving him a sickly air that sent a small trill of worry through Toshio. "Why else would she send me to you?"

And then the pieces finally fit together: an atypically distressed ex-priest, a rushed trip to Tokyo, no plan of how they would go about looking for her, and much, much more than anger reflected in those jewel-toned eyes. Seishin had been in mourning. Toshio was the one who'd taken nearly twelve hours to work it out. _And you thought you could fix this._

Perhaps he couldn't rectify the situation. Nothing but a time reversal would do the trick, and such a thing was beyond his considerable skills. But he could do what he ought to have done over twenty years ago—he could be a friend, a caretaker, a crutch. He could be all the things that Seishin had been for him. Intentionally or unintentionally, Sunako had gifted him an opportunity for redemption, and while he was still furious with her for leaving in such a way, he would fulfill her final wishes for the two of them. The brunette sank down on the floor before Seishin, one hand still clamped around the paper and the other perched tentatively on the werewolf's knee. "Tell me what to do."

"Leave." The word was spoken harshly, but even the blonde couldn't deny how irresolute he sounded. Those pleading irises told the doctor all he needed to know.

"No," he replied sternly. "Anything but that."

"Fuck me senseless then. I want to feel anything but this."

The jinrou's former skill at masking his emotions must have been contagious, because if Toshio was at all surprised by Seishin's request, he didn't show it. He only nodded and unclenched the destroyed missive, gently pushing apart the other's legs and leaning up to capture his lips. He slid his hands up the werewolf's sides with more care than he'd shown anything, as though the immortal were something fragile and breakable. Toshio stood, palms still shifting over the blonde's prone body with practiced cautiousness. Kisses were hesitating at first, since he was certain that Seishin would not want to see this through, despite what he'd said. But when a tongue slipped insistently into his mouth, he realized that he'd miscalculated. Preternaturally strong arms banded around him, pulling him achingly closer. Things escalated quickly beyond his control. Seishin's embrace had gone from fervent to desperate, sending a fever zipping down his spine and clouding his mind with memories of how it felt when they'd done this before. _Pull yourself together. This is not like before. This is not just sex. _Perhaps he was yet again mistaken, but he was sure that they were play-acting, although he was less sure about the beneficiary of this particular show. He searched frantically for a way to salvage the situation, knowing that consummating this romp would end badly and that stopping now would be interpreted as disinterest. But it was difficult to think clearly when a lean, muscular thigh hooked over his hip while pale hands pushed his jacket off his shoulders and made short work of his tie. It was only when delicate fingers brushed aside the doctor's collar that the blonde stopped his ministrations and gasped in horror. Apparently, his bruises looked much worse to preternaturally sensitive sight.

"Are they that bad?" Toshio asked casually, taking the probing hand in his own and kissing the tips of Seishin's fingers.

"I'm so sorry." The jinrou looked on the verge of tears. "I don't know what I was thinking."

He slipped his free hand under Seishin's chin to reclaim his attention. "I do." A swift, chaste kiss. "You were thinking you didn't have time to argue."

"That's not an excuse. I behaved abominably. I shouldn't have—" He was cut off when Toshio tangled their tongues.

"Well, you can make it up to me." He smiled assuredly after pulling away. "But not tonight," he added when he felt cool fingers reach for his belt buckle. He leaned his forehead against Seishin's, silencing any forthcoming protests. "I know this hurts. I know _you _hurt. I've spent a lifetime running from my feelings, so I know all too well that you'd give anything not to have to feel this way." He brushed silvery hair aside before taking the other man's earlobe in his teeth and nipping at it. A sharp intake of breath elicited a contented smirk. _I'm glad you can still feel something_. "And believe me when I say that I have every intention of fucking you senseless every chance I get, but doing this now won't solve anything." He released Seishin's ear and nudged a tear-stained cheek, the taste of salt blooming on his tongue. "You look tired. Get some rest." And with that, he slid off the bed, fighting the excruciating urge to ravish the now-disheveled man lying atop it. _God help you when you're feeling better, Seishin. I'm going to debauch you thoroughly._

The jinrou only narrowed his eyes. "If you weren't going to finish what you started, then—"

"Then why did I bother starting it in the first place?" he asked knowingly.

"Yes," Seishin nodded, lifting himself up on his elbows.

"Because you need to know that I want to." And with that he left, closing the door and keeping a vigil alongside Kuro on the couch. Toshio was no fool. He knew that when Seishin came down from his lust-addled high, he'd be a complete wreck. The other man had been all over the map today, and while the doctor would have liked to vent his frustration at having to decipher a million mixed signals, he'd seen the ravages of grief too often to blame him. Family members were the same way when he told them that he couldn't save their child or heal their spouse. It's impossible to maintain such deep bereavement for any length of time without occasional interruption. Werewolf he may be, but Seishin was no different on that score.

* * *

><p>How do you rebuild a life after it's been shattered into pieces too small to count? Seishin's novels had each been a treatise on this very question, but when it came to incorporating his philosophical convictions into his own life, he was powerless. Every inch of his home was a reminder of the woman that had shared it. If he did not have constant distraction, he could hear her tinkling laughter or her fervent pleas for just one more story. Sometimes her memory would make him smile, and other times he felt like all the air had suddenly been squeezed from his lungs, leaving a cutting sting in his chest even though he shouldn't be able to feel hurt—at least not physically. The first several weeks passed in a murky delirium, which was occasionally punctuated by conversation with the doctor who had unobtrusively taken up residence in the guest room. How Toshio managed his clinic from half a world away, he didn't know and didn't particularly want to ask.<p>

It was during one of his many mute circumambulations of the living room that Seishin suddenly halted and dashed a potted orchid to the floor, sending clumps of dirt scattering and a startled Kuro rushing off in fear. Toshio merely looked up from the book he was reading and waited patiently for an explanation. He even strangled the tired sigh that was struggling to escape his throat.

"I'm angry." The jinrou spoke in a cold, matter-of-fact manner, but the brunette did not doubt the assertion. Over the last several days, the blonde had reclaimed much of his former impassive demeanor, becoming less and less given to the ebb and flow of feeling that overwhelmed him in the first few days after returning to Japan. He might not have noticed it himself, but Toshio could see that he was healing in subtle but significant ways. _Now, if only I could get him to eat. _

"I see that." Toshio removed his glasses and peered intently at the other's back, looking for the tell-tale quivering that accompanied Seishin's particularly depressive moods. "Anger is a normal reaction to suicide."

"No, I'm not angry at her for leaving." Somehow the physician doubted this, but he remained silent. "I'm angry because she lied to me."

"How?"

"She said I could have you both. That I didn't have to choose. But she's not here. She lied." The older man ignored the sting that resulted from this declaration. He knew that Seishin did not mean to suggest that the doctor was an insufficient substitute for the vampire, but he felt slighted anyway. _Will I never be enough? _

"It wasn't a lie, Seishin. You did have us both. She never said _when_, that's all."

Seishin whirled around and fell into the couch, assuming his familiar posture of arched spine, elbows resting on knees, head in hands. Toshio shifted closer, examining with a physician's keenness and making the necessary deductions. "You need to eat something. You may be immortal, but you're still going to be anemic without some kind of sustenance."

"I'm not hungry." He may not have been hungry, but he wasn't as damaged either, Toshio observed. A week ago, Seishin's anger was invariably followed by tears. Today he just seemed worn-thin.

"I don't care." The doctor brought forth the pen knife he'd pocketed for this very occasion. It glinted ominously under the track lighting as he flicked it open. He had just placed the tip to his skin when he felt Seishin's hand wrap around his wrist. That action betrayed the jinrou; he wasn't nearly as powerful as he'd been weeks ago. _He's going to waste away if I don't do something. _Since the werewolf held fast to the hand that held the knife, Toshio dragged the other wrist across the blade's stationary point in one fluid movement, leaving behind a moderately deep cut that dripped onto the floor in a soft percussion. He'd expected Seishin's more animal instincts to take over and avail themselves of the food on offer, but all he felt was a feeble grip closing over the wound.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing? Have you lost your mind?" There was the malicious growl that typically kicked Toshio's heart rate into overdrive. He almost smiled in victory.

"You will drink, or next time I will cut lengthwise and deep enough to do irreparable damage." Yes, he spoke even those words with his customary brashness, headless of how his friend would react to the possibility of losing the only two people he'd loved to self-inflicted harm, but Toshio couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. Anyway, he knew precisely how to manage Seishin. "Then you'll have to make the choice between turning me or watching me die. And don't try to spar with me in your current condition. We both know it's pointless." Dr. Toshio Ozaki could be a cruel, manipulative bastard, but he rarely lost a fight. This would be no different.

"Toshio—" Seishin was fixated on the bright red droplets that shone against the hardwood.

"Be quick about it. I only have five liters of this stuff." He waved the knife around in an exaggerated flourish. Seishin plucked it from his fingers and threw it across the room with a snarl. Even so, he obeyed, knowing how very serious Toshio could be when he was determined to have his way.

But the writer was not without tricks of his own. A slow lick across Toshio's wrist made the brunette's breath catch. Seishin smiled against warm flesh, his predatory predispositions overrunning any hesitancy. The jinrou traced the edge of the cut with the tip of his tongue, knowing that the other preferred an edge of pain with his pleasure, and he was duly rewarded by his companion's uncomfortable shifting. The physician's hand dug into the leather sofa so hard that it creaked. And then he drank, savoring the viscous, heady tang of the liquid as it pooled in his mouth and slipped down his throat. Toshio tasted like nothing he'd ever had and everything he didn't know he wanted. And before he could stop himself, he had the doctor sprawled out underneath him as he slipped his hands under the other's shirt, his mouth exploring a stubbled jaw and intending to sample as much skin as possible. _I wonder if every bit of you tastes like this.  
><em>

"Seishin, wait." Resisting hands pressed against his chest.

And that's when he caught hold of his senses, urgently shifting off the other man and preparing to apologize profusely for what he'd just done. "Um...I'm sorry. I don't usually do all _that."_

"Well, I certainly hope not." The doctor's was cradling his wrist in his lap and applying pressure. Seishin's guilt doubled.

"It's dangerous for you to offer your blood. Because I desire you anyway, I got carried away. I'm sorry." He moved to stand but Toshio held him in place and forced their eyes to meet.

"Sorry? You can be a prize idiot, you know that? Do I _look_ like I'm upset?" The doctor was flushed and breathy, blown pupils suggesting that he was miles away from being offended. If Toshio had forgotten the effect that the jinrou's predacious gaze had upon him, he was being forcibly reminded at present. Dr. Ozaki was a fighter most of the time, true, but right now becoming prey to the unearthly creature at his side seemed like a fantastic idea. "By all means, get carried away. I want you to. I just want to patch this up before we make a mess of your upholstery." He gestured to his still-bleeding wrist. "A few butterfly stitches ought to do it. Good thing you have a weak appetite."

Seishin took the injured hand again, seductively licking the blood dripping along its side, but when he spoke it was in a dangerous hush that carried a current of threat. "I know why you felt compelled to do this. But I won't always have a weak appetite, and you will always be the kind of temptation that shreds my restraint. So if you try this again, I'm leaving you. Understood?"

Toshio couldn't figure out when they'd gone from occasionally physically-involved friends to having the sort of relationship where "leaving you" sent his pulse racing and his heart crashing down to his feet, but he knew with every ounce of certitude he could gather that losing Seishin a fourth time was not an option. Still it was imperative that he stood his ground. "In exchange you have to feed."

"I will." The doctor remained unconvinced, so Seishin continued, "I promise." Brown eyes scrutinized scarlet for any trace of betrayal, and finding none, he finally nodded his assent.

"And no playing with your food the way you play with me, got it?" Only Toshio Ozaki would demand sexual exclusivity in such a manner.

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" The jinrou arched a playful brow.

"What are we? Teenagers? I'm telling you that if you dare to do that tongue thing to anyone else, I'm going to find novel ways to test the limits of your immortality."

"How could I refuse so romantic a confession?" But he was smiling in a way Toshio had rarely seen.

"Good. Now don't you dare try and escape. When I come back, I'm going to exact a particularly exquisite price for dinner."

Seishin laughed. That laugh was exactly as it used to be, Toshio thought gratefully as he went in search of supplies.

* * *

><p>The two discovered that picking up a shattered life required a great deal of patience, a willingness to forgive each other as well as themselves, and a hearty sense of humor. Even so, life does not yield itself so readily. Toshio learned that on a frigid winter morning years later as he stared blankly at the blood he'd just coughed into the sink. He turned on the tap, washing away the evidence before Seishin could smell it and inquire about its appearance. Given his propensity for chain-smoking, he wasn't surprised that he'd developed lung cancer. He was, however, understandably concerned about how his partner would react. The writer would demand a second opinion, and likely a third. He'd solicit enough opinions to fill a chasm if that meant there was a way to escape this particular twist of fate. So Toshio made an appointment with an oncologist. He'd learned long ago that it was futile to argue with a werewolf. He scanned his resultant medical reports with expertise, knowing that the combination of statistics and numbers under his gaze amounted to five years' worth of life. If he walked home from the hospital with a more lumbering step than was his wont, it had less to do with his own prognosis and more to do with the heartbreak he was about to impart upon his lover. Fifty-five years of life was exceedingly generous, he reasoned, particularly when he'd spent so much of that time destroying the lives of others. If this was requital for his past actions, then he'd been given a lenient sentence indeed. But he doubted that his companion would see it in the same light.<p>

Seishin was settled in the library, tapping away on his keyboard as per habit. The jinrou still wrote, and he preferred to write while the physician was at work. They'd kept their relationship as secret as was possible, not out of any shame, but rather convenience. It wouldn't do for an aging physician to be seen with a perpetually young lover. And he'd certainly aged, although even he was aware that he'd done so gracefully. Toshio's hair had grayed, but it was still thick and unruly, and his tanned face retained a youthfulness that sent a number of the nurses into breathy whispers when he stopped to speak. Brown eyes sparkled with wit and mischief from behind his glasses, and that trademark charm had lost none of its luster. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't feel insecure about the changes time had wrought physically, but the jinrou's attraction had not diminished one whit, so the doctor kept himself from dwelling on these things for too long. Seishin could have whomever he wanted. As he stared at his fairy-eyed, porcelain-skinned lover from across the room he was as certain of that fact as he'd been of anything in his life. But Seishin chose Toshio. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Sparkling jade alighted upon him and brightened even more. "You're home early. What's the occasion?"

"You won't like it," he said truthfully as he sank into the couch, adopting a posture that Seishin perfected when he'd learned of Sunako's death. The younger man stood and walked over, dropping to his knees in front of Toshio. He took a bronzed palm in his and threaded their fingers together, leaning his head against the other's thigh. There was a solemnity to this small gesture that seemed out of place.

The werewolf's eyes were focused on the floor, but his voice was steady. "You're dying." It wasn't a question.

"I would ask how you know that, but I suspect you'll tell me something about your very keen senses." He found that he was rather relieved that he'd been found out. It saved him the torture of having deal with the other's penchant for denial.

"You feel weaker lately. And sometimes I can smell your blood. I haven't known long, though. I was going to ask you to see a doctor, but…"

"But you didn't know how to tell me?" Toshio laughed. Leave it to Seishin to be so hesitant, even after years of waking up together. Some things never change.

"That, and I hoped I was wrong." Unmistakable heartache underscored his tone, but otherwise he seemed serenely accepting. Perhaps the intervening years had wrought changes upon the immortal as well?

"I'm afraid not." The doctor looked down at him and found that the explanation came forth with surprising ease. "Non small cell lung cancer has a five year survival rate of fifteen percent." He cupped his companion's cheek meaningfully. "You should prepare yourself, Seishin. We don't have much time."

The jinrou lifted his gaze to meet the expressive mocha eyes that were so familiar now that he could pick out the pattern of light and dark in their irises. For all the times that Toshio had held him together while everything spiraled out of control, he was determined to face this with the resolve that his lover so often demonstrated. It mattered very little that he could feel his patchwork heart splitting apart at the seams. Toshio deserved better. So he squeezed the doctor's hand bracingly and nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

"Fuck me senseless. Tonight, and every night hereafter for the next five years."

And once more, Toshio discovered that Seishin's laugh was the perfect panacea for all his woes. "Gladly, Dr. Ozaki."

That evening found Seishin tracing idle patterns in the doctor's skin as the two lay pressed against each other. He couldn't hide the fact that he was as thoroughly broken as he'd been when Sunako died, but the gratitude he felt was so overwhelming that it monopolized any other emotion. The last several years with Toshio had been a breathtakingly beautiful and completely undeserved gift, as were the years with Sunako before that. He was cognizant of the fact that he ought to have died in Sotoba decades ago. He'd done everything in his power to end his existence back then. As such, any happiness that he gleaned from the world was worth celebrating. He'd have plenty of time to mourn Toshio in future; he'd have nothing but time. For now, he simply wanted to savor his lover's touch, his taste, his awful sense of humor and even more awful culinary aptitude. He smiled into Toshio's hair and pulled him closer, inhaling the same scent of cigarettes and cologne that had driven him mad since he was old enough to realize that the heat building under his skin at his friend's proximity was desire.

"I'm surprised at you," the doctor said sleepily when he felt Seishin's fingers still in contemplation.

"What do you mean?"

"I expected you to try to turn me." It was a simple pronouncement with staggering consequences. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to share an eternity with Toshio. Eternities were lonely things. Sunako had taught him as much. But to love Toshio was to love him as he was, not as the jinrou would have him be. A man who'd been so adamant about pursuing and destroying Shiki could hardly be expected to become one just to satisfy the whims of a lover, even an immortal lover. Such a request would undermine the things that characterized the doctor—his foolhardiness, his stubbornness, his determination to save everyone around him despite the cost. No, Toshio would forever be Toshio, and Seishin had finally learned to be content with that.

"I'd love nothing more than to wake up to you forever. But we have no guarantee that you'd rise up, and I prefer you as you are."

"Thank you." There was nothing to say beyond that.

* * *

><p>A young priest walked through the woods, inky black robes striking against platinum hair and pale, pale skin. He'd dressed for the occasion. Seishin came to rest before the solitary grave and settled comfortably on the grass growing on his lover's resting place. Toshio had been buried, of course. Sotoba buried its dead, after all. The jinrou rarely visited the single plot that they'd picked together. It wasn't that he actively avoided paying his respects, only that he preferred his many memories of the doctor to the inanimate wooden marker that he looked at now. Such a memento could never encompass all of the things that Toshio had been. It was a place-holder, and an insufficient one at that. But he came by time to time anyway. Old habits are difficult to abandon completely.<p>

"Hello, my love," he said conversationally as he waited for his interlocutor to materialize. He never discerned precisely when he'd picked up Toshio's habit of talking to himself, but he found comfort in the act, particularly since his conscience always spoke to him in the late doctor's voice.

_Hello sexy._

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but a smile played at the corner of his lips. "You never learn."

_If you didn't look so good in religious garb, I'd have no reason to want to thoroughly debauch you. _

"I'm here to offer incense, not to be fucked senseless." The smile split into a toothy grin before he laughed outright.

_Some priest you are, talking of such things at a gravesite. You should be ashamed._

"I'll not have a lecherous old goat like you impugn me propriety, Toshio." Ah, and that's when his heart slowed to a dull thud. Such conversations typically proceeded in a light, almost carefree fashion until Seishin spoke the other's name only to be met with silence. And while he'd entertained a few lovers since the physician, it was to this man that he was ever bound, and even death had done nothing to mitigate that. "I miss you."

_I know._

"Sometimes I want to crawl under the earth stay there with you."

_I'm sorry._

"Don't be. It means that I loved you fiercely, that I'll love you always, and that you're alive, at least in my dreams." Seishin knew that he could never make good on his occasional desire to die precisely because he was determined to maintain the other's memory.

_You really need to get laid._

The jinrou snorted through tears. "You're incorrigible, do you know that?"

_And you love me. What does that make you?_

"Human. It makes me human." He couldn't say how long he'd stared at the fir spike before he felt small, delicate arms wrap around his neck and a familiar fall of chestnut hair spill over his shoulders. That he did not stiffen in alarm was a testament to how inured he'd become to life's vicissitudes. It was as though nothing could surprise him anymore.

"I told you that you were human," Sunako whispered, coiling her arms even tighter around him. He leaned back into the embrace, not quite sure that she was really there. He'd just been conversing with an imaginary Toshio, after all.

And he would have continued to believe himself dreaming were it not for the fact that her breath blew softly across his neck. He closed his eyes, tears falling unchecked as he prayed to whatever gods might be listening for this to be real. "I so wanted you to be alive. I often dreamed that you would come back."

"I'm sorry for leaving you like that." Her mellifluous voice sounded slightly different, he noted. He wondered where she'd been. They'd have a lifetime of catching up to do. Perhaps she'd linger long enough to do it.

"There's no need. You gave me something that I didn't realize I needed."

"What's that?"

"Memories worth making. Love worth sacrificing for. Life worth living."

They remained like that for a long while, still and silent as the night deepened from blue to black. "Seishin, will you tell me a story?"

He took a tiny hand in his and brought her palm to his lips. It was as fragile and icy as he remembered, but the jinrou found comfort in it for precisely these reasons. Sunako may have resented immortality, but Seishin was deeply grateful that some things never changed. "What sort of story?"

"One with a happy ending." Seishin smiled. It was a genuine smile, not the beaming sort that he'd once reserved for Toshio's particularly absurd antics, but a smile that conveyed both the delight of love's memory and the pain of its loss.

"Yes. I write happy endings now."

And with that they stood and made for home, hand in hand, quiet conversation and laughter trailing in their wake.

Perhaps somewhere amongst the trees, a lone ghost gazed upon them, a mischievous smile momentarily crossing his lips before he disappeared into the night, leaving behind nothing but the faint scent of cigarette smoke.

* * *

><p>AN: I hope you guys liked this ending. Initially, I'd wanted to write a "happily ever after" for this pair, but it seemed that Toshio, at the very least, would be out of character if I'd done that. He doesn't seem like the type that would assent so easily to becoming a vampire. So I left them as I thought they should be – somewhere between "happier ever after" and "happily ever after". Do let me know what you think.<p> 


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